Touch
by bayoublackjack
Summary: Nothing has been the same for Tony Stark since the Battle of New York. Despite his best efforts to go it alone, he is convinced that the best course of action would be attending a support group for people dealing with traumatic experiences. There he meets Dr. Martha Jones who can relate to Tony's situation and suggests a mutually beneficial, albeit unconventional, form of therapy.
1. Shared Life Experience

Iron Man persona aside, Tony Stark never really fancied himself a hero. He did what he had to do. Did what he needed to do. Maybe it was narcissism. Better yet maybe it was atonement. How much destruction had been created in his name? How many lives had been ruined by Stark technology? He couldn't amend his past mistakes, but he could work towards preventing new ones.

Therapy wasn't his idea. He preferred the well-tested regime of alcohol and an all-nighter in his workroom, but Pepper and Rhodey had staged an intervention. Concession was easier than fighting their logic. So a few weeks after the ordeal with the Mandarin, Tony found himself in Hell's Kitchen, at a church of all places, and surrounded by a group of people spilling about their own experiences with trauma.

Most of the people must have been around for a while because they appeared to be a close knit group. They were all on a first name basis and seemed to be familiar with each others' stories. They were the type of people one might expect to find at that sort of support group. Survivors of abuse. Soldiers. First responders. The woman running the group had been working at the World Trade Center on September 11th.

Tony felt intrusive like he had happened upon a secret place he shouldn't have been. He was seriously considering vacating the premises when he was approached by a member of the group near the coffee urn.

"You're him, aren't you?" the woman asked with hesitation. "You're Tony Stark."

Tony had done his best to be incognito. He dressed as casually as he could manage while still maintaining his usual style standards. He even went as far as to take one of the less conspicuous cars to the meeting, but he supposed that when you were a flamboyant billionaire with a penchant for making headlines and flying around in a metal suit, there was only so much that could be done to keep you under the radar.

Tony looked her over. She was cute. Warm smile. Well dressed. British from the sound of it. She didn't immediately reek of reporter, but one could never be too sure. "Who's asking?"

"Oh sorry," she said flashing a disarmingly apologetic smile. "I'm Martha." She offered him her hand. "Dr. Martha Jones."

"Doctor?" Tony questioned, giving her hand a firm shake. "Beauty and brains then, huh? Deadly combo."

Martha tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she pulled her hand back. "As it were, I'm usually in the habit of trying to _save_ lives as opposed to ending them."

Tony looked her over once more. "Yea, but what a way to go."

"I haven't seen you around here before," Martha commented as she helped herself to a cup of stale coffee. Tony made a mental note to donate a machine to the cause. If he was going to continue this façade, he at least needed a decent cup of coffee to get him through the process. "Is this your first meeting?" she asked.

"That obvious?"

"Not necessarily." Martha reached for the sugar and dumped two packets into her cup before taking an experimental taste. After a slight grimace, she reached for two more. "I've only just started myself."

"Two newbies."

Martha nodded while gulping down another mouthful of her coffee. If the frown was any indication, the sugar didn't seem to be helping elevate the lukewarm cup of swill masquerading as coffee. "It's nice to be around other people dealing with the same issues," she said as she fiddled idly with her cup, not bothering to attempt any more sips. "Although…" She scanned the room before setting her eyes on him. "I'm not sure if this is the help I need."

Tony quirked a brow. "Were you ambushed too?"

"No. I came voluntarily," she informed him. "I thought talking would help with my nightmares, but I'm not quite sure if this particular group would understand my experiences."

"Tell me about it," Tony said with a quiet huff. Something had changed when Tony went through the wormhole. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what he was feeling, but he knew that things were different. The world was different. Or maybe the world was the same as it had always been. Perhaps it was him that had changed. Either way, things were clearer. He could see now what he couldn't before and what he saw wasn't pretty.

"Do you want to go and get some real coffee?" Martha asked as she set her cup aside.

Tony met her eyes. "What I want is a drink. A _real_ one."

"We can do that," Martha replied. "I could use two or three myself."

"Two or three?" Tony glanced at his watch. It was barely noon. "Funny, I wouldn't have pegged you for a day drinker," he teased.

"I'm English. My internal clock is five hours ahead."

"Alright, English," Tony retorted with a smirk. "What are we drinking to? The beginning of a beautiful friendship?"

"Maybe," Martha answered, leading the way towards the exit. "At any rate, I have a proposition for you."

Tony wasn't sure if that was code or not, but she had certainly piqued his interest. "I'm listening."

"Drinks first," she insisted.

"Drinks first," Tony repeated. "I know a place nearby." He pulled his keys from his pocket. "I'm driving."

After a short drive, the two of them sat at the bar in a place not too far from the Tower. The bartender knew Tony's usual and placed two glasses of whiskey in front of them. Tony took a sip from his as he regarded Martha with interest. "So what is this proposition of yours?"

Martha downed her drink in one go without the slightest wince then signaled for two more. Tony had to admit he loved a woman that could shoot whiskey. When the second glass arrived, she took a decent mouthful before deciding she'd had enough liquid courage to press on. "I want you to sleep with me," she announced unceremoniously.

Tony lowered his glass. "Come again?"

Martha finished off her drink and set her glass aside. "I know it must sound…"

"Like a honey trap?" Tony finished for her. "Billionaire. Hot chick offering sex. It's like a lawsuit waiting to happen."

"Well we could draw up a contract if it'd make you feel more secure, but just to clarify, I'm not offering you sex," Martha retorted with a frown. "I meant I want to _literally_ sleep together."

Tony looked at her suspiciously. "Let me get this straight. You want to sleep with me without… _sleeping_ with me?"

"Essentially," Martha confirmed with a nod. "It's called touch therapy," she explained. "When we touch each other," she began, placing her hand on top of his as a demonstration. "Our bodies release oxytocin, which plays a major role in lowering blood pressure and stress levels, reducing social anxiety and helping to relieve pain. I've been doing research and I think it could be helpful in combating my nightmares."

Tony glanced down at her hand on top of his and ruminated on the information for a minute before responding. "Why me?"

"I figured we had a lot in common," Martha reasoned.

Tony made a big show of looking her over. "You're gonna have to help me out here, sweetheart, because I'm not seeing it."

"The Battle of New York," Martha began, causing him to bristle at her words. "You saved us all."

Tony took a quick gulp of his drink. "I did what I could."

Martha studied him for a moment before continuing. "You saw something up there, didn't you?"

Tony met her eyes over the top of his glass. "What?"

"When the wormhole opened," Martha pressed. "I think you saw what was out there. What's _really_ out there."

Tony narrowed his eyes at her. "And what would _you_ know about that?"

"More than you might think."

"That's your angle? 'I understand you. Let's cuddle?'" Tony mocked with a scoff. "You can do better than that."

Martha glanced away. "I doubt you'd believe me."

Tony set his glass aside and crossed his arms. "I fought off an alien army in the middle of Manhattan," he reminded her. "Try me."

Martha took a calming breath. "Does the name Harold Saxon ring a bell?"

"Former British Prime Minister, right? Went crazy aboard the Valiant and disappeared?"

Martha nodded slowly. "That's the story that everyone remembers, but it's not how it really happened."

Tony quirked a brow. "Oh?"

Martha shifted uncomfortably in her seat and clutched her hands into tight fists. "No. The truth is _far_ worse," she answered evasively while taking another deep breath.

Tony wasn't sure what her version of events was, but they must have been pretty bad judging by her reaction. "So sharing a bed is supposed to magically fix us?"

"Of course not," Martha said, looking him in the eyes again. "What we have isn't a disease. We can't be cured. Our whole worldviews have changed and they'll _never_ be the same again. But…there _is_ a chance that this might help us sleep a bit easier."

"I'll think about it," Tony said evenly.

"That's all I ask," Martha retorted. She stood up and pulled a business card from her pocket, sliding it across the bar to him. "Ring me if you make a decision. And thanks for the drink." She flashed him one last smile then headed for the door.

Tony waited for her to leave before he picked up the card and scanned the print quickly. 'Dr. Martha Jones, Chief Medical Officer for the Unified Intelligence Taskforce.' As he rose from his stool, Tony pulled his phone from his pocket. "J.A.R.V.I.S., I want you to dig up everything you can find out about Dr. Martha Jones and the Unified Intelligence Taskforce."


	2. TMI

By the time Tony reached the Tower, he had access to every record that was even remotely related to Martha Jones. He poured himself another drink and settled in to sort through the information.

Martha Clivina Jones, born March 20, 1986. The second of three born to Clive and Francine Jones. Excellent student. A-levels in Biology, chemistry, physics and English literature. Completed foundation training at London's Royal Hope Hospital. Recruited by UNIT at age twenty-two. Promoted to Chief Medical Officer within two years of recruitment. Served as Torchwood liaison.

A few hours' worth of research had painted a picture of the kind of person that Martha was, but it still didn't tell Tony what he wanted to know. Her medical records were no help either. She more or less had a completely clean bill of health save for a broken arm when she was four and UNIT mandated therapy sessions. Otherwise, there wasn't as much as a cavity in her medical history.

Deciding to try another angle, Tony turned his attention towards UNIT. As it turned out, the Unified Intelligence Taskforce was an intelligence agency and military organization with connections to the United Nations and whose main purpose was to investigate and combat paranormal and extraterrestrial threats to the Earth. It definitely wasn't what Tony was expecting to find, but his previous conversation with Martha made a lot more sense in retrospect.

Still, there was one thing he didn't understand.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., pull up everything you can find out about Harold Saxon," Tony requested. Once the information was spread out in front of him on the holographic display, he crossed his arms over his chest and did a quick scan of the headlines. "Alright, now filter those results using the words 'Valiant' and 'alien.'"

"Search inconclusive, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. responded.

"Smells like a cover up to me," Tony said. "Alright. Let's see what they don't want us to know."

After coming up empty using traditional sources, Tony hacked into UNIT files where he hit pay dirt and located classified documents detailing what had gone down with Harold Saxon aboard the Valiant. Tony's sense of accomplishment was short-lived because as he began reading, he wished he never would have gone digging.

According to the UNIT file he found, Harold Saxon was an alias of the renegade Time Lord known as the Master. Saxon had created a phone network called Archangel which subliminally influenced the UK population into voting him in as their Prime Minister. Under the guise of making Earth's first contact with an alien race known as the Toclafane, Saxon created and activated a paradox machine opening a massive rift above the Valiant and allowing six billion Toclafane to descend upon earth. One-tenth of the Earth's population was killed in the initial assault and within a year humanity was on the verge of extinction. And somehow, remarkably, no one remembered a second of it.

Tony's head felt heavy under the weight of all the information he had digested, but he kept reading. Even after he finished with that initial file, he kept searching learning more and more about the alien visitors that UNIT had dealt with over the last few decades.

From the sound of it, the Chitauri were just the tip of the iceberg. Time Lords. Daleks. Cybermen. Adipose. Sontarans. Autons. Racnoss. Toclafane. Not only were alien invasions old news, and apparently being systematically covered up by the world's governments, but some of them were able to integrate themselves into human society and take on positions of power like this Master asshole.

Tony downed the rest of his drink in a quick gulp and closed his eyes for a moment. After Aldrich Killian was defeated, Tony had destroyed all of his suits, but in the time since things had ended with Pepper he found himself with an undeniable need to rebuild. "J.A.R.V.I.S., bring up the plans for the Iron Legion," he requested. Deciding to distract himself with his work, he made his way to his workshop.

Tony wasn't sure why he did it. The suits. The work improving the Helicarrier with S.H.I.E.L.D. The more he thought about it, it was all for naught. If some alien species hell bent on destruction wanted to take them all out, there wasn't much humanity could do to protect itself. So what meaning did his work have?

There was a time when he used to feel like he could make a difference. Back when he made weapons he knew the power of his inventions. One touch of a button could change the course of a war. One button could bring terrorists to their knees. One button could be the different between subjugation and salvation. He felt untouchable. Invincible. Dare he say…godlike.

Then there was the ambush of his convoy and his time in the caves with Yinsen. Maybe that had been the start. The first moment of vulnerability. Captured and outnumbered. Shrapnel in his heart. The deck had been stacked against him, but Tony persevered. He survived. He changed course, pushed forward and found new meaning. So why the hell couldn't he do that now?

After more than a few drinks and limited progress on his latest project, Tony headed to bed and drifted off into a restless sleep. The nightmare began as it always did. Tony intercepts the missile that the World Security Council launched at Midtown and takes it through the wormhole toward the Chitauri fleet, where battalions of them are prepping to rain chaos down on the city. His suit loses power and he's suddenly freefalling. While he's dropping he secretly wonders if it's the end for him. Will this be the time he fails? The time he dies? The time he lets everyone depending on him die?

Tony woke with a start and sat bolt upright in bed. "Not again," he groaned and ran both hands through his hair roughly. He stayed there for a long while before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and pushing himself up onto his feet. "J.A.R.V.I.S., try that number for Dr. Jones."

"Right away, sir," the AI responded.

Tony made his way back to the bar while he waited for the call to connect.

"Hello?" Martha's voice came through loud and clear.

"I'm not keeping you from you beauty sleep, am I, English?"

"No, I was up."

"Good. Not that you need it anyway."

"I wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon," Martha confessed.

"But you still expected it?"

"When I got a call from the head of UNIT demanding to know why a security breach of UNIT servers was traced back to an IP address belonging to Tony Stark, I figured there was a decent chance."

"She needs better firewalls if she's gonna keep her secrets secret," Tony quipped into his glass. "Tell her to give me a call. I know a guy. I'll hook her up."

"I'll pass the suggestion on, but just so you know, the _real_ secrets archived in a place even _you_ can't touch."

"Don't challenge me, Doc," Tony retorted playfully. "I'm contrary by nature."

"I'm assuming you didn't ring me up to prove your excellence."

"No, but reminders never hurt," Tony joked.

"Was it a nightmare?" she asked, wiping the smirk off his face in the process. "The reason you rang I mean."

Tony fell silent and tried to force the images that jarred him awake out of his mind. "So how does this work?"

"I can come over if you want to discuss it," Martha suggested.

"Do you usually make house calls or am I special?"

"Special in your own mind I'm sure," Martha said with a quiet chuckle.

"Textbook narcissist," he assured her. "Come on over. I'll pour you a drink. I doubt I'm getting any sleep tonight anyway."

"Alright, give me about fifteen minutes. In the meantime, try not to drown in any pools while loving on your reflection," Martha teased.

"No promises," Tony shot back quickly before the ending the call and reaching for a second glass for her drink.


	3. Testing the Waters

A short while later, J.A.R.V.I.S. was announcing Martha's arrival as she stepped off the elevator into the penthouse. She was dressed in such a way that she could have just as easily been ready for a night in as for a night out, so Tony wasn't completely sure if he had interrupted her plans. As she took in her surroundings, he heard utter a quiet 'wow.'

"Yea, it's alright," Tony said while beckoning her forward and over to the bar. "You should have seen my place in Malibu. Now _that_ was impressive." He sighed wistfully, taking a moment to pour her a drink and refill his own glass. "New York will always be home though."

"I feel that way about London," Martha agreed. She offered up a warm smile when he passed her a glass. "Thank you."

"Both cities are magnets for alien activity," Tony added between sips.

Martha swirled her whiskey around without looking at him. "Still don't think we have anything in common?"

"I'm beginning to notice certain similarities," Tony conceded. "Your files left a lot out though. Are you going to fill in the blanks?"

Martha lifted her gaze. "Is this the trust building portion of the evening?"

Tony shrugged. "Show me yours and I'll show you mine."

"Miraculously, that didn't sound nearly as cheeky as it could have."

"Give it time." Tony raised his glass. "I've already had a few of these. So I'll probably get more inappropriate as the night progresses."

"I'll bear that in mind."

Tony nodded between sips. "Good plan. Story time?"

Martha took a deep breath and followed it with a huge gulp of whiskey. "How much do you know?"

"Harold Saxon went full blown megalomaniac complete with flying spheres of death and the entire world was memory dusted into forgetting."

"They're called the Toclafane," Martha began. "They were human once. Men and women…and children." She clutched her glass tightly and stared absently ahead. "For an entire year, the Master used them scare people into submission and keep them from rising up against him. There were a few who did though. The resistance helped me survive and they helped me spread the word of hope. Most of them lost their lives in the process."

She drained the contents of her glass and reached for the bottle in order to refill it. Tony debated granting her a reprieve, but after another mouthful of liquor she pressed on. "Six months into my time on the run, I secured passage into Japan," she continued. "The whole country had been forced into labor camps. I was captured and placed into one as well." She stared at her hands. "Aka/ao/ten/fifteen…that was my life. Red camp, blue sector, tenth level, bunk fifteen. Work shift gamma soldering chips onto circuit boards until I was exhausted and my hands were burned and scabbed over and bloody. I remember the first time I burned myself badly. I got hit twice in the ribs for delaying the belt rate then told to get back to work," she told him with a mirthless laugh. "I thought I was going to die there."

"How did you get out?" Tony asked before he could stop himself.

"My friends…even someone who was tasked to kill me…they all risked their lives. There was a blackout and riots broke out. I slipped out in the fray and managed to get aboard a container ship headed for San Diego," she answered and her voice began to tremble. "I lost track of the others when I made my escape. Hito. Tokami. Griffin." She shook her head. "The Master sent the Toclafane in and I watched as he set blaze to the islands of Japan. I was the only one to get out alive."

"Did he get away?"

"No," Martha said with a calming sigh. "He was killed, but he was just one of many threats."

Tony's thoughts drifted to the battalions of Chitauri inside the wormhole. "There are a lot more out there," he added tensely.

"Not all bad," Martha told him softly. She placed a gentle hand on his knee.

Tony stared at the hand, neither accepting nor rejecting the gesture. "Not all good either."

"I never would have pegged you for a pessimist," she replied.

"Not pessimistic. _Realistic_ ," Tony countered. "Nine out of ten alien visitors might be E.T.s trying to phone their way home, but that doesn't mean we should ignore the fact that number ten might decide to go Independence Day on us."

Martha retracted her hand and took a sip of her drink. "Believe it or not, I've never seen that film," she announced, effectively changing the subject.

"E.T. or Independence Day?"

"The latter one," she revealed.

"What? _Seriously_?" Martha nodded and Tony responded with a scoff. "How is that possible?"

Martha shrugged. "No reason. I've just never seen it before."

"Is it the name?" Tony teased. "Are the words 'Independence Day' an affront to your British sensibilities?"

Martha huffed quietly in return. "Not in the slightest."

"I bet you hate the Fourth of July too."

"I wouldn't say it's my _favorite_ time of the year," Martha confessed.

"Is it the obscene levels of patriotism?" Tony asked.

"It's just not my thing," Martha answered evasively.

"I get it. No, really I do. Americans are loud and obnoxious and annoying. It's kinda our thing," Tony joked. "You guys are probably still pissed about all that perfectly good tea gone to waste too, right? Isn't that like your lifeblood?"

"I think we've moved on."

"Really? Good, because I'm having obscene thoughts about teabags right now that I should probably keep to myself," he said before finishing off his drink in one gulp.

"Bloody hell." Martha groaned in disgust. "No wonder you're worried about sexual harassment. You're a complete arsehole, aren't you?"

"The word has been applied to me in the past," Tony admitted. "But I did give you fair warning that my degree of inappropriateness directly proportional to my level of inebriation."

"You did," Martha acknowledged as she wrestled his glass away from him. "You should stop drinking."

"My glass is already empty," Tony pointed out.

"Let's keep it that way."

Tony stood up from his stool without so much as a wobble. He definitely had a good buzz going, but it wasn't significant enough that his motor skills were impacted. "You gonna tuck me in?"

"I suppose," Martha said, moving to stand as well. "As long as you keep everything tucked in yourself."

"Can I change first?" Tony asked, looked at himself. He hadn't changed since returning to the Tower and ended up going to bed earlier in his clothes he had worn to the meeting.

"It's your house. I could hardly tell you what you can and can't do with yourself before bed."

"If you did, you wouldn't be the first," Tony replied, leading the way to his bedroom. He paused when he reached the door to his room. It occurred to him that he had been sleeping alone since Pepper left and the nightmares seemed to become prevalent in her absence. Maybe there was something to this touch therapy hogwash after all. Or maybe he was just desperate to not be alone. "Are you staying?" he questioned while pushing the door open.

"It wasn't my original plan, but I reckon I could sleep in this." Martha glanced down at herself. "I've slept in worse."

"In lieu of a naked slumber party, which I'm sure you'd shoot down…"

"And you would be correct," Martha interrupted.

"I could lend you something," he continued. "I've got plenty of t-shirts or with any luck Pepper might have left something behind."

"Is that your girlfriend?" Martha asked. She stood just inside of the door and looked around as if she was afraid of encroaching upon someone else's territory.

"Was," Tony answered. "It's complicated." It truth, his situation with Pepper was pretty simple. After everything that happened with Killian and the Extremis virus, he had pushed her away. It was stupid and they both realized that, but Tony couldn't ignore the fact that she was targeted to get to him. So he gave into the tired old 'I love you so I have to let you go' cliché and insisted that they end things.

Martha moved forward with a small nod. "I imagine most things in your life are," she said as she sat on the edge of the bed and slipped her shoes off.

"Is that a dig?" Tony retorted. He disappeared inside his closet before she answered, but he could have sworn he heard a muffled confirmation. He exchanged his jeans for a pair of sweatpants and grabbed two t-shirts, one for each of them. He was in the middle of working his buttons open when he returned to her. "Take your pick," he told her as he tossed both on the bed. "They both have a lot of mileage on them so you should be comfortable."

Martha curiously eyed the scar on his chest where the arc reactor had been before picking up the Iron Maiden t-shirt.

When she noticed him watching her, she looked at him expectantly and he turned his back to give her some privacy. "You a fan?"

"Of Iron Maiden?" She let out an amused huff. "No, but my baby brother Leo went through a phase when we were younger."

"Metal isn't a phase," Tony objected while he removed his shirt and then blindly reached for the other t-shirt. "It's a lifestyle."

"Says the man that named his alter ego after a Black Sabbath song," Martha retorted, passing the shirt to him.

Tony instinctively glanced back at her and saw that she had finished changing and stood next to the bed wearing his shirt and not much else. "Well Gold-Titanium Alloy Man didn't have the same ring to it," he quipped as he turned to face her.

"Fair enough," she answered with a chuckle.

Tony watched her meticulously fold her clothes, doing her best to furtively tuck her bra between the other garments. "You mind the right side of the bed?" he asked, already moving to the opposite side after pulling on his t-shirt.

"As long as the sheets are clean I can make it work."

"They're clean," Tony promised as they both pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. "I haven't been using it much."

Once she settled on her end, Martha rolled onto her side and looked at him seriously. "Avoiding sleep won't fix anything. I know. I've tried."

Tony exhaled sharply and stared at the ceiling. "I like working. It calms me."

"Idle hands, eh?"

Tony turned his head towards her. "Speaking of which, we probably should have established some rules before we hit the sheets."

"Probably so," Martha agreed. "But there's no time like the present."

Tony nodded and rolled over to face her. "State your terms."

"First and foremost, no sex," Martha said automatically. "If you want to get a leg over, ring someone else. But if you're having a panic attack or trouble sleeping or you just need someone to support you, I'll come right over."

"Like a booty call without the good stuff?"

Martha rolled her eyes, but nodded in spite of his word choice. "Essentially."

"Okay but don't make a big deal about it if certain _situations_ arise in the middle of the night."

Martha glanced down between them then back up at his eyes. "Do you need to have a wank before we start?"

"No, but I might need one afterwards," Tony retorted.

"You can sort yourself in the morning. Preferably after I've gone."

"You sound so clinical, Doc," Tony teased with a tiny groan. "I hope sex with you is more passionate."

"Not that you'll ever know."

"I can use my imagination."

"You're going to have to because I'm not shagging you."

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks," Tony said in his best Received Pronunciation. "You're thinking about it aren't you?" he pressed, reverting back to his usual tone of voice.

"The only thing I'm thinking about is sleep," Martha answered with a heavy sigh. "I have work in the morning."

Tony was enjoying the banter, but he conceded with a nod. "You wanna spoon?" he asked. "Which do you prefer to be? Big spoon or little spoon? Little spoon right? Everyone likes being the little spoon."

"Neither. Spooning leads to forking," Martha joked with a completely serious expression that caused Tony to laugh. Once he started, she smiled a bit.

Tony sat up to switch the lights off and then he settled in next to her again. "Spooning. Forking. I'm all in, Doc. Just don't knife me."

"Says the bloke who has a deadly suit of armor," Martha retorted as she closed her eyes and moved a bit closer to him so that their bodies just barely touched.

"Used to have. I hung it all up."

"Oh?" Martha replied with a quiet yawn.

Tony stared at her in silence before replied. "I guess…" His thought drifted to all the suits he had built after the Battle of New York. Each one was an improvement of the last and a desperate attempt to increase his chances of protecting those around him. "I felt like everything was spinning out of control so I tried regaining it in the only way I knew how."

"It's called hypervigilance," Martha said drowsily. "It's not out of the ordinary."

"Yea…" Tony responded in barely a whisper as he watched her drifting to sleep. "Too bad I feel as helpless as ever."


	4. For Science

With a heavy sigh, Tony closed his eyes in a feeble attempt to get some rest. He wasn't the type that counted sheep, but after mentally reciting the elements of periodic table in order by atomic number, then symbol and finally by atomic weight, he gave up all hope of dozing off. He could use another drink or better yet, a drink and few hours in his lab. The only question was if he could get up without disturbing Martha's sleep.

Tony opened his eyes and stole a glance at her. She had rolled over at some point during the night and turned her back to him. He felt the shift in position, but didn't question it. They were still close enough that he didn't feel alone and he assumed that it was just a natural reaction to being in bed with a person she hardly knew.

Once again, he found himself questioning the validity of this so called therapy. Was either of them really supposed to get anything out of it? The pillow talk had been nice, but he was no closer to a good night's sleep. An escape to the lab was beginning to sound more and more like a good idea.

Tony lifted his head from his pillow a bit to check on Martha. He listened for the slow and steady hum of slumber, but instead he heard Martha sniffing quietly. The sound was barely discernible and a tell-tale sign of someone that was used to hiding their tears. And if he had any remaining doubts about the cause of the noise, then the way her body convulsed made it clear that she was crying. Tony hesitantly looped a loose arm around her midsection, still not sure how this whole thing was supposed to work, but when she pulled him closer he relaxed into the embrace, resting his head against her shoulder.

It probably should have been weird. Well it _was_ weird, but not in the way that Tony would have expected. There he was snuggled up with a woman he had met less than 24 hours ago. Not to say that he had never taken a woman to bed the same day that he met her, but this time his intentions were pure. More or less pure. He'd definitely have sex with her, if the offer was ever on the table, but that wasn't what this was about.

Somehow this woman had gotten under his skin in a way he wasn't prepared for. Maybe it was because he finally agreed that she did understand him. And if he was honest, he wanted to understand her better as well. More importantly, he wanted to protect her from the memories he felt responsible for triggering.

"I'm sorry," Martha told him quietly once her breathing began to even out. "I was supposed to be here to help you not the other way around."

"Who says those things have to be mutually exclusive?" Tony replied close to her ear.

"I think it was talking about it. About Japan and the Master…"

"I shouldn't have pushed you," Tony said quickly. "I could tell you were wigging out. I should have just dropped it."

Martha turned in his arms to face him. Even in the dim light spilling in through the window from the city around them, he could see that her expression was earnest. "You didn't mean any harm."

Tony stared her in the eyes. "It was still a dick move."

Martha huffed softly. "Anything to turn the subject back to your dick, eh?"

"Have you always been such a potty mouth?" Tony retorted in amusement.

Martha chuckled. "I would have said penis, but I've been accused of being too clinical."

Tony smirked. "You're a right. Dick is better."

"You say that like you're a fan."

"Of my own, but in my defense it's the only one I have intimate knowledge of. I'd have to see a few in their natural habitats to be sure."

"A _few_?"

"At least three to be scientifically sound."

"Just ask the other Avengers," Martha joked.

"The green, the godly and the geriatric? Great idea," Tony retorted sarcastically. "I don't even want to think about what Barton has going on down there."

Martha dropped her head against his shoulder and laughed, snuggling closer to him in the process. "Are those your only mates?"

"No," he answered after adjusting to the change in position by putting an arm around her waist. "There's Rhodey. He's my best friend. He's put up with my shit longer than most people." He inhaled deeply and let it out. "I can't believe he's never let me see his before," he added after a brief lull in conversation. "I mean that seems like a basic bonding experience, right?"

Martha stifled another chuckle against his chest. "I have plenty of friends, but at no point did we ever feel inclined to flash our fannies to one another."

"Seems like a missed opportunity to me."

Martha lifted her eyes to meet his. "Don't even _think_ of asking."

"I know. I know." Tony sighed dramatically. "No sex. I get it, but if we keep talking about our naughty bits, my mind is gonna start to wander," he informed her, only half joking.

"I don't mind your mind wandering, just make sure that your hands don't," she warned.

Tony shifted his hand upward from its previous position at the small of her back. "Is this alright?" Martha nodded before lowering her head once more. She snaked an arm around his midsection and sighed softly. "Do you think you can get back to sleep?" he asked.

"Maybe."

"Want another drink?"

"Definitely."

They pulled apart and Tony led the way back to the bar. Martha followed close behind with the blanket from the bed wrapped around her. "Take a load off," he said gesturing to the sofa while he filled two glasses.

He joined her a short while later with their drinks and the bottle and they leaned against one another as they nursed their whiskey. They spent the rest of the evening chatting about random things until they both managed to nod off.

Tony wasn't exactly sure how long he had been out, but when he woke, the sun was up and both Martha and the whiskey were gone. He sat up, pushed aside the blanket that had been tucked around him and reached for the coffee table, where a note sat between the empty decanter and a neatly folded Iron Maiden t-shirt.

 _Sorry to cuddle and run, but duty called and I needed a shower and some aspirin for my hangover before work. We should really pace ourselves next time. Well that's assuming that there IS a next time. No pressure, of course, but last night was the best sleep I've had in ages! I reckon I can't be sure if it was because of you or the alcohol. Maybe we should give it a go two or three more times just to be sure? You know…for science. Let me know what you think. But seriously, it was really nice talking to you. So even if you decide the therapy thing isn't right for you, give me a ring some time. – Martha_

Tony smiled in spite of himself. If he was being honest, Tony didn't have a lot of faith in the effectiveness of the touch therapy technique, but he couldn't ignore that he did wake up feeling better than he had in a while. He should at least test the theory with a follow up or two. For science.


	5. Standing Appointment

Tony didn't immediately get in contact with Martha. Instead, he waited a few days to see how his sleeping pattern development. There was still a struggle, not as bad as before their night together, but enough so that he took it upon himself to initiate another meeting.

"Hello?" Martha answered her phone on the third ring.

"Dr. Jones? I was wondering if I could schedule another appointment with you," Tony joked.

Martha made a huffing sound on her end of the line. Tony noticed that she did that whenever he made a joke or something. It was like she wanted to laugh but refused to give him the satisfaction. "I suppose I can squeeze you in," she replied.

"Are you free tonight?"

"Yea. Just give me a few and I'll be right over."

"I'm actually not at home," Tony informed her. "How about we try your place this time?"

"Mine?" Martha repeated hesitantly. "Alright…I reckon we could use my flat," she conceded a moment later. "Do you need the address?"

"I can find my way," Tony insisted, ending the call as he knocked on her front door.

Tony heard the sound of frantic shuffling before Martha opened the door wearing a loose fitting shirt that hung off one shoulder and a pair of cotton shorts. "You're a bit of a stalker, aren't you?"

"No comment," Tony answered as he stepped over the threshold into her tiny studio apartment. It was essentially a kitchen/living room combo with a bed thrown in the middle and, despite the mad dash that occurred just before she opened the door, it was pretty immaculate. "Well this is…cozy."

"Is that billionaire speak for minuscule?" she quipped while she closed the door behind him.

"I've been held prisoner in Afghani caves bigger than this place."

"Well not all of us have the luxury of having our names on a skyscraper," Martha retorted. "Manhattan is expensive and I'm on a budget."

"You need money? I could pay your rent if you ever decide to upgrade to adult sized accommodations," Tony told her. "Better yet, you want your name on a building? How about we put it on the lease? I've been told women like that sort of thing. Real estate is the gift that keeps on giving."

Martha quirked a brow at his offer. "I thought you were here to be my cuddle buddy not my sugar daddy."

Tony cracked a smile. "Just something to keep in mind in case you find yourself with a sudden craving for something sweet."

"If I do, I'll grab a candy bar."

Tony laughed outright. "Alright, no sugar for you, Doc," he conceded. "So how have you been?"

"Okay I guess," Martha answered with a shrug. "And you?"

"No nightmares, but sleep doesn't come easy."

"Well you're welcome to stay as long as you like," Martha offered. "Assuming you can make peace with my humble accommodations."

"Size aside, it beats the cave," Tony reasoned as he removed his jacket and laid it across the back of one of her kitchen chairs. "And fortunately for us, cuddling doesn't require a lot of space," he pointed out before taking a seat on the edge of her bed.

"True enough," Martha replied. She took his coat and hung it up near the door. "I'm not quite ready for bed just yet, but please make yourself at home." She crossed over to the kitchenette and switched her electric kettle on. "I was just about to fix myself a cuppa. Would you like one? Or I could get you something else, if you prefer. Just nothing alcoholic. I'm not sure I've completely recovered from last time."

"Tea is fine," Tony assured her.

"Do you like Earl Grey?" Martha questioned while setting out two mugs. "If not, I might have some chamomile lying about." She rose up on her tiptoes and snatched a canister from the top shelf.

"Whatever you're having. When in Rome and all," Tony answered distractedly as he took in his surroundings.

Martha nodded and took two tea bags from the canister, dropping one into each cup. "Earl Grey it is."

Tony picked up a frame from her bedside table and studied the image of Martha and another woman. "Friend of yours?" he asked, turning the frame her way.

"Hmm?" Martha glanced over her shoulder to see what he was talking about. "Oh. No, that's my older sister, Tish."

Tony looked at the photo again. "She's cute."

"She'd say the feeling is mutual," Martha told him with a hint of a smile. "You're her celebrity crush."

"Well she's definitely got good taste. Maybe I'm curling up with the wrong sister," he joked while putting the frame back in its place.

"I never said that you weren't attractive. You can be attracted to someone without wanting to sleep with them. Don't you have any female friends?"

Tony considered her question. "Yea…no… _maybe_?"

Martha huffed and returned her attention to the tea, picking up the kettle and filling both their mugs with hot water. " _That_ sounded convincing."

"Present company excluded, my closest female friend also used to be my girlfriend so I don't know if that counts."

Martha turned towards him and reached for the sugar on the table. "Were you friends with her before you started dating?"

"Yes."

"And are you still friends now?"

"More or less." Tony shrugged. "I mean she still runs my company and she hasn't staged a coup d'état yet so that's a plus, right?" he reasoned.

"Is she the one that 'ambushed' you?" she asked, complete with air quotes.

"It was a group effort with Rhodey."

"Well then…" Martha began as she delivered his tea to him. "She definitely sounds like a good friend to me."

Tony took his tea and stared down into his mug. "She's something alright."

Martha sat next to him, clutching her mug with both hands. "You still love her," she said more as a statement than a question.

"More than I love myself apparently," Tony retorted. "Surprisingly."

"Oh, I don't know." Martha nudged him with her shoulder. "I reckon Iron Man has a heart after all."

Tony used his elbow to nudge her back. "Does that surprise you?"

"Not really." Martha sat her mug on the nightstand and scooted backwards to pull her legs up onto the bed. "I don't reckon people become superheroes without at least some regard for the lives of others."

Tony met her eyes. "I'm not sure I qualify as a hero."

"I imagine the people whose lives you've saved think otherwise."

"And the ones I've failed?" he challenged halfheartedly. "What about the people whose lives were ruined by technology _I_ put in bad people's hands?"

Martha's brow creased with concern. "Your designs could have just as easily been used to keep peace as they could to start war."

"Not in the hands of terrorists."

"You never _knowingly_ sold arms to them, did you?"

"No, but complacency is just as bad as selling to them outright and it doesn't absolve me of my guilt," he added seriously.

Martha sighed softly and placed a gentle hand on his forearm. "It's true that we must be held accountable for our actions in life, but it doesn't mean we should punish ourselves for things that are beyond our control, Tony."

Tony shifted his mug to one hand and ran the other through his hair in frustration. "It was my name…"

"Your name but not your will," Martha cut in as she squeezed his arm. "Even if you made bloody sure that your weapons were only placed in the hands of people you knew would use them solely for peacekeeping efforts, you would have no way of stopping some militant force if they were dead set on seizing control of those weapons."

Tony's mind flashed to the ambush on the convoy in Afghanistan following his demonstration of the Jericho missile. Soldiers had been killed all for the sake of the Ten Rings being able to get their hands on him and his tech. On some level, Tony knew that she was right about the attack being beyond his control, but realistically he knew that it was his inventions that led to that point.

Tony closed his eyes. He heaved a sigh and followed it with a huge gulp of tea, all while longing for something stronger than Earl Grey and preferably single malt. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Martha watching him with a tilted head. He knew he'd never get her to see things from his perspective so he thought it best to change the subject. "Is this the usual tone of your bedtime conversations?"

Martha managed a weak smile as she straightened up and pulled her hand away from his arm to reach for her cup. "Maybe I'm out of practice. I haven't had a need for any pillow chat in a while."

"Straight to business?" Tony joked into his cup. "I like that, but you shouldn't ignore the importance of foreplay."

Martha rolled her eyes. "There hasn't been _any_ sort of play."

"I find it hard to believe that you don't have people fighting to share your bed."

"I never said they weren't," Martha retorted with a smirk.

Tony mirrored the expression. "Super selective?"

"Highly exclusive," she quipped into her tea. After drinking down a sizable gulp, she added, "After my last relationship ended, I reckon just wasn't ready for anything serious."

Tony shifted his position on the bed and angled his body towards hers, resting his mug on his knee. "Maybe you need something less than serious," he suggested.

"Still trying to get into my pants?"

"I doubt I'd fit them but I'm always willing to try new things."

Martha huffed. "How about we try to get some sleep?" she suggested, setting her mug down again. She stood up long enough turn the rest of the lights except her bedside lamps off and to pull back the covers.

Tony carried his cup over to the other side of the bed and set it down while he slipped off his shoes. Once they were both in bed, Tony was surprised to see Martha instantly cuddle up to him without missing a beat. Again, he found himself struck by how weird it should have been that their arrangement felt so natural to him. "So I was thinking…" he began after they settled into a comfortable position. "Maybe we should make this a more regular thing."

Martha met his eyes. "You mean like a standing appointment?"

"Yea," Tony confirmed with a nod. "Does that work for you?"

Martha took a moment to consider before responding with a nod of her own. "Alright. We can work the details out in the morning."

"You mean you'll still be here when I wake up?" Tony joked.

"It's my flat," Martha reminded him as she lowered her head and rested it against his shoulder. "Do you think I'll leave you to your own devices? One minute alone and you'll have one of my bras on your head while you try to defy the laws of science."

"Your bras are safe. I only wear them for ceremonial purposes," Tony retorted with smirk, catching the Weird Science reference. "Besides…I'm more of an ass man."

"Is that why you're so eager to spoon?"

"No," Tony insisted. He closed his eyes and rolled onto his back. He pulled Martha close, resting his hands at the small of her back. "It is a _great_ ass though."

"You're a great arse," Martha retorted in a huff close to his ear. "And if you touch my bum and you'll get knifed."

Tony chuckled quietly. "I'm not saying I will, but _if_ I did, it would be totally worth it."

Martha's knee struck a place that was dangerously close to his groin. "Shut up and go to sleep," she replied with an air of amusement.

"I'll be good," Tony promised.

"Good." Martha snuggled a touch closer, settling her head and hand against his chest. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he answered back before drifting off into a sound sleep with a smile on his face.


	6. Pleasant Company

As promised, Martha was still there when Tony woke up the next morning. They had shifted their positions in the middle of the night and her back was now pressed firmly against his chest. His arms were looped loosely around her midsection and one of her hands was covering where the two of his jointed together.

Tony closed his eyes and tried to remember the last time he woke up with someone in his arms. Pepper. Just after New Year's once things had started to get back to _normal_. Before his insecurities wrecked everything. He sighed softly and a dark part of him wondered how long it would be before he wrecked whatever this thing was that he had with Martha.

"You must be pretty chuffed with yourself," she said mid-yawn, bringing him out of his head and back to reality.

"Hmm?" Tony responded, resting his chin on her shoulder in an attempt to better see her face.

"Spooning," she answered.

Tony was aware of their position, but her comment reminded him of their earlier conversations. "Well now that you mention it," he retorted with smirk. "You're not going to cut me, are you, Doc?"

"Not this time," she told him before pulling his arms tighter around her.

Yet again, Tony was momentarily stunned by the ease at which she initiated physical contact. "So you're not kicking me out?"

"Not just yet. It's my day off. I was planning on sleeping in."

"So what? You just gonna use me until you've had your fill?" he joked.

"If I wanted to use you, I'd already have a condo with my name on the lease by now," Martha teased.

"The offer is still on the table."

Martha shifted her position so that she could look at him over her shoulder. "Tempting, but as it stands…I only want to use you for your body."

Tony quirked a brow. "Is that right?"

"Afraid so," she answered, locking eyes on his.

"I hate to tell you, but you haven't made very good use of it."

"Think I could do better?" Martha challenged quietly.

"Absolutely. You haven't even taking advantage of my best feature."

"Which is?"

"I've always been good with my hands," Tony replied, pulling her closer.

"I see…" Martha said, leaning her head towards his. "Then maybe a demonstration is in order," she suggested breathlessly with lips just inches away from him.

Tony closed the gap, bringing his mouth closer enough to feel the heat of her breath, but stopping just short of kissing her. "That can be arranged."

"Good." Martha smiled brightly. "I take my eggs scrambled and my toast light," she announced before turning her head away abruptly. "Wake me when you're done."

Tony stared at her in disbelieve for a moment before rolling onto his back laughing mirthlessly at the ceiling. "Well played."

Martha chuckled softly. "Don't forget the coffee."

"Anything else?" Tony asked as he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

"Yep, I expect you to do the washing up once you're done," Martha answered with another yawn.

"You're lucky I like being bossed around by attractive women," Tony retorted as he stood up from the bed and walked over to the kitchenette. He set the coffeemaker to brew before to starting on breakfast. As he cracked eggs into a bowl, his thoughts drifted to Pepper again. She was the last person he had cooked for, but she preferred omelets to scrambled eggs. "Always with the eggs," he muttered to himself.

Miraculously, Tony didn't burn the food or the building down and it took significantly less than three hours to complete the whole meal, which was a new record for him. He collected their mugs from the night before, rinsing away all remnants of tea and pouring up coffee for the two of them.

"Wakey wakey, Doc, eggs and…toast," Tony announced after setting their coffee on the nightstand next to her and returning with a plate of scrambled eggs and buttered toast.

"Such quality service," Martha commented with a soft mewl as she stretched her arms above her head.

"I'm a quality date," Tony retorted, setting the plate on her lap.

"Not a date," Martha reminded him with a hint smile as she lifted her fork.

Tony watched her take her first bite with anticipation. "So?" he asked once she had eaten a few more mouthfuls without any signs of gagging.

"Has anyone ever told you that fishing for compliments is an unattractive quality," she teased as she ripped a corner off one of the pieces of toast and popped it into her mouth.

"Gimme a break. My daddy didn't hug me enough as a child so now I'm in constant need of validation," he retorted, only half joking. "And maybe I'm wondering whether I have a future in culinary arts, if this billionaire thing doesn't work out."

Martha smirked. "Planning on dazzling people with your proficiency in egg cookery?"

Tony shrugged. "I've been told it's the most import meal of the day."

"It's always been my favorite." Martha met his eyes as she pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and nibbled on it. "If I tell you something daft do you promise not to laugh?" she asked as she painstakingly removed the crust from her toast little by little.

"No judgement," he promised. "Unless it's _really_ ridiculous in which case there will be severe judgement," he added with a smirk.

"When I was a little girl, I always wanted one of those breakfast machines like Pee-wee Herman had," Martha admitted with a sheepish grin.

Tony quirked a brow. "You mean like a Rube Goldberg machine?"

"Well we call them Heath Robinson contraptions where I'm from, but yea." Martha shrugged and tore her uneaten crust into a bunch of tiny pieces. "I don't know why but I always thought it was the coolest thing ever." She met his eyes. "Pretty silly, yea?"

Tony returned her gaze. He immediately thought of at least half a dozen questionable things that done over the years. Ridiculous things. Dangerous things. Borderline illegal things. _Actually_ illegal things. All of which would not only have been worthy of judgement, but would probably be enough to make her think twice about ever having allowed a train wreck like him into her life or bed. And here was Martha feeling genuinely embarrassed about wanting something that any kid probably would have wanted in her shoes.

"Not as silly as Pee-wee going through all that trouble and only eating _one_ bite of his food," Tony responded as he broke eye contact with her and reached for his coffee. "Now finish your breakfast and answer the question. How does it taste?"

"It's good," Martha promised with a smile. " _Really_ good." She offered up a forkful of eggs as proof.

Tony met her eyes again briefly before leaning in to eat from her fork. "Not bad."

"One might even say it's… _eggscellent_ ," Martha joked with a laugh.

"Seriously?"

"What? That joke didn't crack you up?"

Tony groaned painfully. "You're losing cool points with the puns, Doc."

"Peace offering?" Martha replied, pushing a second forkful of eggs in his direction.

Tony indulgently allowed her to feed him a few more bites of eggs before forgoing anymore in favor of coffee. "So I guess we should get down to business and discuss the logistics," he announced once she was finished eating. As promised, he dutifully carried her plate over to the sink to be washed. "I doubt you want me in your hair all day."

"Marigolds are in the cupboard below the sink," Martha informed him between sips of coffee. "And there's no rush for you to go." He turned to see her watching him over the top of her mug while he him pull on the yellow rubber gloves he had just retrieved. "I enjoy the company," she confessed.


	7. Rules of Engagement

After the coffee was finished and the dishes were washed, Tony removed his rubber gloves and rejoined Martha in bed. He plopped down dramatically on top of the covers and stretched out. "Well that was an ordeal."

"Not used to manual labor?" Martha questioned as she fluffed her pillow and leaned against the headboard.

"Building stuff is manual labor," Tony pointed out. "But housekeeping is different matter entirely."

"I'll do the cooking next time," Martha promised.

Tony put his arms behind his head. "So is breakfast in bed going to be the norm?"

"Could do," she answered with a casual shrug. "Assuming we have the time."

"Just because it's a quickie doesn't mean it can't be satisfying," he quipped as he closed his eyes.

He heard her huffing above him and even without seeing her face he knew that she had rolled her eyes as well. "Can we include a provision about you making dirty jokes?"

"First of all, it takes a perv to know a perv," Tony accused playfully, opening one eye. "Secondly, the joke's on you, Sigmund, because I wasn't actual being sexual." He closed his eye again. "I think I've shown excellent restraint."

"As opposed to other night?" she countered.

"Being sober tends to make that easier."

"That's another thing," Martha began in a tentative voice. "Maybe you should think about showing a bit more restraint in that regard as well." Tony opened both eyes and looked at her without speaking. "I mean I get it. I saw the bottom of more than my fair share of bottles in the beginning," she admitted while casting her eyes downward. "And I _did_ know better. I'm a physician so of course know that alcohol doesn't solve anything. In fact, I could probably list all the ways in which it makes matters worse. I reckon just…" She exhaled sharply. "I didn't really care."

Tony turned his gaze toward the ceiling. He wished he could say his drinking was a result of the Battle of New York, but the truth of the matter was that his problems began a long time ago.

Tony had been young the first time he took a drink. He must have been 13 or 14 because he vaguely recalled it being around the time he started at MIT. Even now, he was hard pressed to remember why he had done it. 'You probably wondered what it was about scotch that held your old man's attention better than you ever could,' a dark part of him suggested.

It definitely wasn't the taste, Tony quickly learned. He gave it a try off and on over the years, sampling his father's supply. If Howard ever noticed he never showed any indication. The same couldn't be said for his mother Maria or the family butler Edwin Jarvis, for whom Tony later named his AI. Neither one of them ever missed a beat. And despite the odd lecture or scolding, Tony's happy memories about his childhood usually involved one or both of them.

Tony finally cracked the code about drinking when he was 21. Camera flashes and the reoccurring image of twisted metal became a little more tolerable after enough alcohol. The night of his parents' death Tony learned that he preferred the flavor of whiskey to the bitter taste of reality. Within the same year, he had inherited the role of CEO of Stark Industries, following Obadiah's brief tenure, and lost Jarvis. He and scotch were old buddies by then.

"I'll cool it with the scotch," Tony told Martha with eyes still fixed on the ceiling. If push came to shove, he could always switch it up and drink bourbon or rye whiskey. Hell, corn whiskey was thing and he did always wonder what moonshine was like.

"Don't think you can fool with semantics either," Martha said, as if reading his mind.

Tony exhaled sharply. Either she was really good or he was too damn predictable. "Am I supposed to just go cold turkey?" he questioned. He had tried clean living on more than one occasion and needless to say it didn't take, much to Rhodey and Pepper's shared dismay.

"Well I'm not a sobriety counselor," Martha replied. "And I think it would be hypocritical of me to tell you to give up drinking full stop when I've still be known to drown my sorrows with a full bottle of Moscato. But I do think you could benefit from diverting your energy to something else," she insisted. "I told you I'd support you and I meant it." She placed a hand on his arm, spurring him to turn his eyes from the ceiling to her. "If you ever feel yourself losing control in _any_ way, ring me up. I can go to you or you can come over here again or we can just have a chat over the phone."

Tony stared at her for a long while before speaking again. Martha hadn't given him any reason to doubt her, but he couldn't help questioning why someone would be so accommodating to a person they barely knew. "I hope you have a good phone plan."

Martha shrugged and retracted her hand. "If not, I reckon you could always buy me my very own telecommunications company or something," she quipped.

Tony laughed. "You know, I can't tell if you've always been a smartass or if I'm starting to rub off on you."

Martha scrunched her nose. "Well considering that hearing the words 'arse' and 'rub off' used in the same sentence has suddenly caused my mind to fall into the gutter, I'd say there is a definitely negative influence."

"If you want to get dirty, we could always slip under the sheets."

"See now I was thinking more along the lines of a shower," Martha countered with a slight smirk.

"Sounds nice but I don't have anything to wear. Unless that's the goal."

"It might've been the goal _if_ you were invited."

Tony scoffed playfully. "Maybe we should include a provision about _you_ , Doc. You're a worse flirt than I am," he accused with a grin.

"Trust me. _This_ isn't me flirting," Martha assured him.

"Well now I'm just curious," Tony said, rolling onto his side and propping his head up with one hand. "Can I get a little demonstration?"

"Seems like a conflict of interests, if you ask me," Martha reasoned. She rolled onto her side and mirrored his position. "Sure it starts off innocent enough. First, there's a little flirting. Then, there's snogging. Shagging. Next thing you know it ends with tears." She sighed dramatically. "And I just couldn't bear the thought of breaking your heart," she teased.

Tony's smile grew wider. "Well you'd have to find it first," he countered with another laugh.

Martha's eyes locked onto his and his laughter died down into a comfortable silence. She slowly lifted a hand and gently traced the outline of a heart where his arc reactor had once been. "It's right here," she answered.

"Lucky guess."

"I _am_ a doctor," she reminded him.

"If we're being technical about it, so am I," he pointed out.

It was Martha's turn to laugh. "Tony Stark, Ph.D., is it?"

He wrapped his hand around hers and pulled it away from his chest, turning it over to look at her palm. "Just two doctors using their hands to change the world in different ways."

"I reckon so."

"Still…" He let go of her hand. "I could do a lot worse than getting my heart broken by you. I'm pretty sure I _have_ done worse."

Martha shook her head. "You don't even know me. Not really."

It was true. They had only had three encounters in total, which spanned merely a few days. Still, for whatever reason, he felt as though he could trust her. Then again, trusting people had bitten him in the ass on more than one occasion. "You're right. You could be a spy."

Martha quirked a brow. "Do I _look_ like a spy to you?"

"If you did, you wouldn't be a very good one," he pointed out.

"Fair point," Martha conceded with a shrug. "So…in the spirit of transparency, I'll answer anything you ask."

" _Anything_?"

"Sure," Martha promised. "Of course, if you ask the wrong thing it might get answered with a slap," she warned.

Tony rolled onto his back once more as he thought about what he wanted to know. The short answer was everything, but he supposed he ought to start simple. "Who's your favorite Avenger?" he asked as if it were some profound inquiry.

Martha cracked a smile. "Captain America," she answered automatically.

"Seriously?" Tony scoffed. "You're not even American."

Martha stifled a laugh. "No, but my grandfather was," she informed him. "Gabriel Jones. He was born and raised in Macon, Georgia and he served as a member of the 92nd Infantry Division during World War II. Steve Rogers saved his life and I literally would _not_ be here if it wasn't for him."

"Remind me to send him a muffin basket. He could use the bran at his age."

"I don't know. He seems to be fairly fit to me."

Tony scoffed. "He's old enough to be your grandfather."

Martha matched his scoff with one of her own. "And you're practically old enough to be my dad."

"First of all, I could be a young uncle at best," he insisted, feigning offense. "Secondly, I was under the impression that you weren't interested."

"I'm not," Martha reiterated. "Just because you're hard on the nerves it doesn't mean you aren't easy on the eyes."

Tony smirked. "You sure you still want to hang out with me?"

"I'll keep you around for now," she answered with a shrug and a hint of a smile.

"No take backs!" Tony said quickly as he sat up in bed. "Anything else we need to cover before I go?"

Martha considered the question as she pulled the covers back and swung her legs over the edge to stand and stretch her limbs. "I think we've hit the highlights, but we can address any other issues as they come."

Tony nodded while moving towards the door. "We'll go with the flow." He took his jacket from the hook by the door and slipped it on. "I'll upgrade your security clearance at the Tower so you can come and go as you please," he informed her as he reached for his phone in order to set J.A.R.V.I.S. to work on the task.

"I reckon I could get you a key to my flat as well," Martha offered.

"Yea. Have seen my phone?" he asked, patting his pockets.

"Did you lose it in the bed?"

"Maybe." Tony walked back over to the bed to search the bedding.

Martha retrieved her own phone from the nightstand. "I'll give it a ring." A few seconds later the chorus of Mötley Crüe's _Dr. Feelgood_ could be heard from underneath one of the pillows. "Seriously?" she questioned with one of signature amused huffs.

"Don't judge me," Tony retorted with a grin. "Do I want to know what your ringtone for me is?" Martha gave a noncommittal shrug, prompting him to call her phone back to see for himself. When the main guitar riff of Black Sabbath's _Iron Man_ began to play, his smile grew wider. "I knew I liked you for a reason," he told her heading for the door once more.

"Metal's a way of life, yea, Tin Man?" she retorted as she held the door open from him.

"That's _Dr_. Tin Man to you," Tony shot back as he stepped over the threshold, turning back to say goodbye. "See you soon, Dr. Feelgood?"

Martha nodded. "I'm just one call away."


	8. Banner Day

As promised, the next time Tony gave her a call, Martha agreed to meet him at the Tower once again. A few weeks had passed since their previous session, during which time he made good on his promise to upgrade her security clearance.

When she reached the lobby, Tony was there waiting to greet her arrival. "Should I be pleased or disconcerted that you're here to escort me?" she asked upon seeing him.

"Both?" he suggested with a slight smirk. "C'mon. Let me give you the tour."

"The grand tour, yea?" She almost sounded impressed. Almost. "Next thing you'll be introducing me to all your superhero mates," Martha teased.

"So you can make googly eyes at General Geriatric?" Tony scoffed while offering his arm to her. "Don't hold your breath."

Martha shifted the overnight bag she was carrying to one shoulder then slipped her arm through his and allowed him to lead her off in the direction of his private elevator. "Do I detect a note of jealousy?"

" _Me_ jealous? Of _Cap_?" Tony scoffed again. "Why would I be jealous of him?" Martha offered a shrug and smile as her answer. "Last time I checked it was me you were planning on cuddling up with tonight."

"True, but maybe that's only because I haven't had the opportunity to meet him yet," she joked.

"I'm living proof that it takes more than just a pretty face to win you over," he countered defiantly.

Martha pinched his cheek. "And such a pretty face it is."

"Flirt," Tony retorted as they stepped inside the elevator.

He started the tour off by showing her around Stark Industries, which probably wasn't nearly as exciting after hours as it was during the daytime. Though, if Martha was bored, she hid it well. Once they had covered the office space and R&D department, he walked her through the layout of the residential areas of the Tower, showing her where the individual Avengers' quarters were located. That was one of the few parts of the Tower to which he had not given her full access, for obvious reasons.

Once he felt that Martha had a firm grasp on the geography of the Tower, they headed up to his place. Tony gave her a quick tutorial about her security clearance upon reaching his penthouse. Afterwards, he took her straight to his workshop. "And this…" Tony began as they walked inside. "…is where all the magic happens."

"You're such a nerd," Martha replied with an amused expression. She unhooked her arm from his and set her bag down as she took a stroll around the workroom, taking in her surroundings. "This is amazing."

Tony shoved his hands into his pockets. "I like to think so," he commented. It was his life's work and he was proud of it, but he couldn't help wondering how it looked through her eyes.

"I feel like I'm sneaking a peek at some sort of highly classified material," Martha confessed with a mischievous grin. "Are you sure I'm allowed to see this?" she asked as she picked up an armored gauntlet that he had been working on from a workbench.

"Maybe not that," Tony answered, taking the gauntlet from her. "The repulsor needs calibration. One false move and we'll both be in need of medical attention," he warned as he gingerly set the item back down.

Martha drew a breath in through her teeth as she slowly backed away. "Right. Look but don't touch."

"That seems to be our motto," Tony quipped.

Martha held her hands behind her back as she looked over a schematic Tony had sketched out on a monitor. "There's plenty of touching in our situation, just not the sort you seem keen about," she retorted.

"I like our arrangement," Tony insisted, perhaps more fervently than intended. Martha lifted her head to meet his eyes. "I mean it serves its purpose, right?"

Martha smiled brightly. "No complaints thus far," she told him while returning her gaze to the blueprints.

"Tony?"

Tony turned his head at the sound of his name, not expecting to see anyone else, but clearly there weren't alone. "Bruce?" The other man moved towards them slowly, casting a curious glance at Martha as he approached. "I didn't realize you were still here."

Ever since the Battle of New York, Tony and Bruce had been collaborating on a global peacekeeping program that could be used in conjunction with his Iron Legion. The goal was to create a completely self-sufficient android force with the intention of using it to protect the Earth from both domestic and extraterrestrial threats. So far, they had made great strides in their endeavor but there was still some missing part in the artificial intelligence design that they had yet to crack. At any rate, the Ultron Program wouldn't be functional any time soon.

"I was headed out," Bruce assured him as he adjusted his glasses. "I just wanted to get down some numbers to check later before I forget." He glanced at Martha again. "I didn't mean to interrupt your…"

"It's not a date," Tony and Martha said in unison. Their eyes met briefly and Tony could have sworn he saw a ghost of a smile on her face.

"If you say so," Bruce replied.

"I do," Tony said firmly. "Anyway, introductions seem to be in order." He signaled for the both of them to gather closer. "Bruce Banner, meet Martha Jones. Martha here is my doctor."

The expression Bruce wore was one of pure skepticism. "Your doctor?"

"Therapist, specifically," Tony added, with a quick look in Martha's direction. He saw her shaking her head slightly from the corner of his eyes and there was a barely audible huff. "Rhodey and Pepper staged an intervention. So I decided to give in and get some help."

Bruce nodded slowly, but Tony still wasn't sure if he fully believed the story that Tony was trying to sell him. It wasn't a complete lie, just a creative spin on the truth. "I heard about that," Bruce said. "I would have helped but I'm not really good with confrontations."

"I'm not overly fond of them myself," Martha confessed as she stepped up to Bruce with her hand extended. As they shook hands, it was hard to say who was more flustered. "I can't believe it's actually you," Martha said in an awed whisper.

"Sorry…" Bruce glanced at Tony for a brief moment before looking at Martha while retracting his hand. "Have we met?"

"No, but you're…a bloody legend," Martha answered.

"Is that what they're calling me?" Bruce glanced downward and rubbed the back of his neck. "That's a creative spin, isn't it? Did your PR people come up with that?" he asked Tony.

Before Tony could respond, Martha continued speaking. "Your research on gamma radiation and bio organics is brilliant."

When Bruce lifted his head, his brows were raised. "You've read my work?"

"You never told me that," Tony added, feeling as surprised as Bruce sounded.

"You never asked," Martha shot back with a shrug. Well wasn't she just full of surprises? She turned her attention back to Bruce. "Whenever I'm not rehabilitating billionaires, I work for an organization that has vested interest in the effects of gamma radiation on the biological processes of different species. In fact, I'd love to pick your brain sometime, Dr. Banner."

"But not now," Tony cut in quickly. He had a feeling that if he didn't intervene, none of them would be getting any sleep tonight and he selfishly wanted some alone time with Martha. He hadn't slept as well in the time since he left her apartment and he missed their late night conversations. "We have a session, right?" He looked to Martha for confirmation.

"That we do," Martha agreed. She lifted her overnight bag onto her shoulder again. "Perhaps another time?" she suggested to Bruce.

Bruce's gaze zeroed in on Martha's luggage and flickered on Tony for a fraction of a second before he made a point to adjust his glasses. Whatever Bruce was thinking he didn't say it out loud, but Tony was sure it would need to be addressed sooner or later. Preferably later. "Maybe so," Bruce told Martha as he made his way for the exit. "Anyway, enjoy your night."

Tony watched Bruce leave before returning his full attention to Martha. "He seems nice," she said.

"He is nice," Tony insisted as he led the way out of the workshop and towards his bedroom. "Just don't get him angry. You wouldn't like him when he's angry."


	9. Do You Believe in Magic?

Once they reached his bedroom, Tony made himself scarce to allow Martha to change in privacy. A short while later, he returned with some freshly brewed Earl Grey tea for Martha in a mug he had bought for her to use while she was at his place. She was still in the bathroom when he arrived, so he set the mug on the nightstand and disappeared into his closet to change for bed.

"Tony?" Martha called through the door. "Are you decent?"

"Not if I can help it," he retorted while reentering the bedroom from his closet and pulling a tank top over his head. "I am dressed though," he added as he stole a quick sip of her tea.

Martha opened the door and peeked around the corner. "You're ridiculous," she replied. She disappeared back inside for a brief moment to switch the light off then emerged from the darkened room dressed in a white tank and grey yoga pants and tying a purple paisley printed scarf around her head.

"Are you cold?" Tony asked.

"No," she answered with a frown. "Why?" He gestured toward the scarf and she let out a tiny sigh. "I'm too tired to explain the science and complexities of black haircare to you right now, but you're more than welcome to read up on it yourself."

"You had me at science," Tony retorted with a smirk. "And since we're on the subject of reading…what was that back in the lab with Bruce?" He handed her the mug.

"Just what it looked like. One person admiring another's work," she answered before taking an experimental sip. As she lowered the mug, she noticed the design on the side of it. There was a heart with a sinus rhythm cutting through the center and the words 'cute enough to stop your heart, skilled enough to restart it' printed around it. Martha took one look at it and rolled her eyes, but Tony definitely saw a smile on her face just before she turned her back to him.

"Anything else you've been reading that I should know about?" He remembered that she had taken A-level physics and if her interest in the Rube Goldberg machine was any indication, she at least had passing interest in engineering. Not to mention, she did seem to enjoy seeing the inner workings of Stark Industries. Tony wondered if Bruce's was the only brain she wanted to pick.

"Hmm…" Martha paused to think. "Well I love Harry Potter. Oh and Shakespeare. Even more so after he wrote me a sonnet." She paused again. "Technically he wrote me 28 sonnets."

"Are you kidding me right now?"

"No, seriously. I met Shakespeare," Martha insisted as she sat on the edge of the bed. "Former time traveler, remember?"

"Kinda hard to forget," Tony replied. "But I wasn't talking about you meeting the Bard," he clarified. "Shakespeare? Sure. I can understand that. It's a classic. Harry Potter? Not so much."

Martha scoffed. "Okay, first of all, Harry Potter is a modern classic," she began defensively. "Secondly, how can you not like Harry Potter?"

"Easily. I hate magic," he told while moving to the other side of the bed.

Martha gasped. She turned to face him. "You _cannot_ be serious."

"Witchcraft to the ignorant…simple science to the learned," Tony quoted. "Magic is what people turn to when the science gets too hard to explain. Don't understand something? Oh well, it must be magic."

"You sound like a snob," Martha commented into her cup.

Tony was in the process of pulling the covers back when he stopped to look her in the eyes. "No, I sound like an empiricist. Seeing is believing."

"I can just imagine your thoughts on religion then." Martha shook her head in disbelief before taking a huge gulp of tea. "I can't believe you don't like magic," she continued with a frown. "Honestly, there's _nothing_ in the fantasy genre you like?"

"Nothing."

"None at all?

Tony shook his head. "None."

Martha paused thoughtfully. "Not even Tolkien?"

Tony slipped beneath the covers with a groan. " _Especially_ Tolkien."

"Okay, but what about _Star Wars_?" Martha pressed.

"I prefer _Star Trek_ , but I do like it," Tony admitted.

"A-ha!" Martha declared triumphantly as she set her mug down long enough to crawl into bed next to him. "I knew there had to be at least one thing."

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but _Stars Wars_ isn't fantasy. It's science fiction."

Martha scoffed. "And you expect me to believe that the Force isn't magic?"

"Sentient microscopic organisms tapping into a force field is hardly magic," Tony retorted, gesturing to her mug.

Martha pursed her lips as she passed the mug his way. "That's a bit of a reach."

"Blame George Lucas then. I'm a trekkie," he told her between sips of tea.

"What about _A Song of Ice and Fire_? You know the series _Game of Thrones_ is based on? It's supposed be fantasy for people that aren't into fantasy. There's even a whole family with your name," she joked. "The Starks of Winterfell. And everyone is fighting over the Iron Throne. Sounds like it should be right up your alley if you ask me."

Tony took another sip of tea and handed the mug back. "Sean Bean dies in that one right?"

Martha nodded as she lifted the cup to her lips. "You've seen it?"

Tony shook his head. "Lucky guess. He dies in everything."

"That's true," Martha admitted. "But the point is, you might like, if you tried," she continued. "And you don't have to worry because there's hardly in magic in it. I mean there are dragons, but they don't count because dragons are real."

Tony lifted a brow at her words. "Seriously?"

"What?" she responded defensively.

"Dragons are real?"

"Well it's not like they're currently flying about in the world, but dragons had to have existed at some point."

"And you're basing this theory on what exactly?"

"It's like flood stories. Too many cultures make references to their existence for it not to be true."

"You sound like you've thought about that a lot," Tony said with a teasing smile.

"I have!" She quickly finished off her tea and set the mug aside so she could give him her full attention. "I mean who wouldn't want to see an actual dragon? They're…"

"Magical?" Tony cut in.

"Majestic," Martha replied. She smiled brightly and her eyes lit up as she spoke. "Now hummingbirds, on the other hand, they _are_ magical."

Tony smiled in spite of himself. "I didn't realize you were such an animal lover."

"I always wanted a dog when I was little, but my mum never let us have one. The closest I've ever came to have a pet of my own was for a few months in university when me and my flatmate Molly found a stray cat on the way home one night. Cute little thing. Loved to cuddle."

"The cat or the roommate?"

"Both actually. There was only one bed and we had to share." She sighed wistfully. "I should really give Molly a ring. It's been far too long since we've spoken."

"So you're telling me you have a history of snuggling up to people?"

Martha met his eyes. "Disappointed that you weren't my first?" she countered with a smirk.

"I will admit that I thought what we had been special," Tony answered with a dramatic sigh as he lay back against the mattress. "But there is something to be said for a woman with experience." He turned his head her way. "At any rate, you, Martha Jones, are full surprises."

Martha rolled onto her side, bringing their bodies closer together. "Well there's a lot you don't know about me."

Tony's gaze locked onto hers. "I look forward to learning more."

"I told you I'd answer anything you ask," she reminded him.

"Yea and the last time you started talking about your crush on Cap." Tony turned his eyes towards the ceiling. "Are you going tell me how dreamy Bruce is this time around?"

"I definitely detected a sensitive soul there," she said with a quiet chuckle.

"I hope you like green," Tony shot back.

"You mean like your eyes?" Martha teased. "I thought they were brown at first glance, but it would seem that I've mistaken."

"You're so not cute," he retorted. "You're gorgeous and sexy as hell, but not cute."

"Really? Because someone just gave me a mug that suggests otherwise." Without replying, Tony rolled onto his right side so that his back was to her. "Oi, don't sulk! I was only taking the mick!" Martha chuckled softly and playfully nudged to his shoulder, but he didn't turn back around. "Are you cross with me?" she asked seriously. When no answer came, she nudged him again more gently. "Do you want to spoon? Which do you prefer big spoon or little spoon? Little spoon, yea?" she continued without giving him a chance to answer, slipping into position behind him and looping her left arm around his waist. "Everyone likes being the little spoon."

Tony wasn't even that upset, but if he said his hissy fit was just a joke, then there was a good chance she'd pull away and he didn't want that. Height wise he had a good six inches on her, but the way she wrapped herself around him and almost seemed like they were meant to be that way. He took her left hand with his right and she laced their fingers together. "Please tell me I'm at least your second favorite Avenger."

Martha laid her head against his shoulder and chuckled softly. "Honestly, you're becoming a strong contender for the number one spot. It's not every day I get to curl up with one of the greatest scientific minds of our time." She lifted his hand so she could see the Brass Rat on his finger. "We should really compare notes one of these days. I know of some tech that you'd lose your mind over," she insisted as she lowered their jointed hands to their previous position.

That piqued his interest. "Oh yea?" Tony angled his head towards hers. "What we talking about here?"

"How about surveillance equipment hidden inside a special kind of contact lens that uses alien technology to exploit a solution to the EPR paradox?"

"Quantum mechanics?" Tony responded with a grunt of approval. "I love it when you talk nerdy to me." She laughed at his joke and he pulled her arm tighter around him. "You're fascinating, you know that? Amateur physicist, magic enthusiast, animal lover, serial cuddler…Shakespearean muse."

"Flattery won't make you my number one," she told him as she draped her left leg over both of his and hugged his back. "Just ask Shakespeare."

Tony used his left hand to guide her leg upward so it lay across his hip and then he rested his hand on her knee. "You give him a hard time too?"

"No more than he deserved. There he was laying it on thick while he had a bloody wife and kids tucked away out of town," Martha pointed out. "Not to mention that his breath was minging."

"I don't think I need to remind you of the stereotype about dental care on your side of the Atlantic."

"Keep taking the piss, you'll be the one in need of dental care," Martha threatened jokingly.

"You really gonna going there?" Tony scoffed. "First you bruise my ego and now you're threatening me with violence?"

"You started it. You went their first."

"The only place I'm going is to sleep," Tony retorted as he closed his eyes. "To sleep perchance to dream."

Martha moved her head so Tony suddenly felt the warmth of her breath against his neck. It smelled like Earl Grey with a faint hint of mint from her toothpaste. "In that case, sweet dreams."

Tony gave her knee a gentle squeeze. "Sweet dreams, Doc."


	10. The Fork and the Rhodes

Tony woke up feeling cold, but it didn't have anything to do with the temperature in his bedroom. No, he was missing the warmth of Martha's body pressed against his back. He sighed softly as he rolled over only to discover that he was in bed alone. Taking a moment to wipe the sleep from his eyes, he pushed himself up into a sitting position to observe his surroundings.

Martha's mug was gone from the nightstand and there was no note in sight, but thankfully her overnight bag was still in the corner of the room. So she hadn't abandoned him after all. Armed with the knowledge that she hadn't left yet, Tony had a good idea of where she was. He climbed out of bed and padded downstairs barefooted to search for her.

When he found Martha, she was in his kitchen hard at work getting their breakfast together. Tony hung back for a moment and watched her. From the look of it, she was deep in concentration, chewing on her bottom lip as she artfully arranged their food onto a plate. The mug he got her was right. She was cute. Nevertheless, he had to admit he preferred the look of her in one of his t-shirts more than in her tank top and yoga pants. The headscarf could stay though.

"Are you gonna frame that or serve it?" he called to her from his position in the doorway.

Martha was slightly startled by his sudden appearance, but she recovered with a bright smile. "What are you doing up?"

He was up because he missed her. After only knowing each other for about a month and having just three sleepovers, Tony had inadvertently gotten attached to a point where he craved her companionship. Of course he wasn't going to say that. "Just making sure you weren't in my lab stealing my secrets. I've been known to let the wrong people get too close."

"The only thing I've stolen was your groceries," Martha insisted with a smirk. "If you recall, I did promise that I was going to cook this time."

"I remember," Tony assured her.

"I wasn't expecting you to be up so soon though," she confessed. "I wanted to surprise you in bed."

"Well you can still do that, but we should probably eat first so the food doesn't get cold," Tony retorted as he moved further into the kitchen and made a beeline towards the coffeemaker.

Right on cue, Martha huffed. "Seriously? First thing in the morning and you're already at it?"

"Nothing like an early morning workout," he quipped as he reached for a mug to put his coffee in.

"For the record, my opinion about working out is on par with your stance on magic," Martha informed him.

Tony nodded while he gulped down a mouthful of black coffee. "Noted, but by the logic you applied last night, maybe you just haven't found the right workout regime yet," he quipped. "Or maybe you just need a new exercise partner."

"I'd sooner work out alone," Martha replied, lifting her own cup of coffee to her lips.

Tony smiled to see her using the mug he got her again. "That works too," he insisted with a shrug. "I mean it's definitely a fun mental image for me. And as a doctor, I'm sure you realize that it's a healthy impulse." He carried his mug over to the kitchen island, where Martha and their food were waiting, and pulled up a stool. "Just be careful you don't go blind."

Martha snatched up a fork from the counter and aimed at him. "Don't make me stab you in the eye," she threatened playfully.

"So you do want to fork me, huh?" Tony added as one final tease while reaching for the utensil in her hand.

Martha rolled her eyes as she relinquished the fork. "Shut up and eat your bloody breakfast."

"Doctor's orders." Tony pulled the plate closer to him. "This looks good, by the way."

Martha took the stool next to his and nursed her coffee. "There wasn't much to work with, but I made do. I hope you like French toast."

"Love it." Tony cut a corner off with his fork and took a bite.

"It's just too bad you didn't have any fresh fruit in," Martha added a moment later as she watched him eat. "Some strawberries would have really made it perfect." She paused, lowering her mug half an inch. "You're not allergic or anything, are you?"

"Nope," Tony replied. 'Pepper is though,' he remembered silently, but he pushed those thoughts away as quickly as they surfaced and shoved another bite into his mouth. "Next time there will be strawberries," he promised once he was done chewing.

Martha still held her mug close to her mouth with both hands, but she wasn't drinking. She was chewing her bottom lip again. It was a nervous habit of hers, he noticed. "So how is it?" she asked.

Tony looked up from the plate. "It's good."

Martha beamed. "Is it really?"

"Yea." He dutifully offered up a bite for her to taste as proof.

Martha lowered her mug as she leaned forward to eat it. "Hmm," she appraised, lifting her hand to cover her mouth as she chewed. "Not bad."

Tony reached for his coffee. "Told you so."

"Generally speaking, I avoid kitchens like the plague."

"So this isn't your usual?" Tony asked, gesturing to the French toast with his fork.

"No," she answered with a laugh. "I mean I love eating and Food Network is one of my most watched channels, but _actual_ cooking is not really my forte."

"You're better than you think," Tony insisted. "Between my eggs and your French toast, we might have future in the breakfast game."

Martha's smile got brighter, if that was even possible. "From Iron man to Iron Chef," she joked.

Tony speared another piece of French toast and presented the fork to her in a zigzag pattern. "Airplane coming in for a landing."

Martha huffed quietly. "Dork," she commented before allowing him to feed her a second morsel.

There was another fork on the counter by the plate, but the two of them continued to share the one in alternate bites like plucking petals off a flower. When they got to the last piece, it was Tony's turn but he fed it to Martha anyway. "For a job well done."

"Cheers." Martha reached for her coffee and took a quick sip to wash down her food. As she lowered her mug, she stretched her other arm across the counter towards Tony's face. Her fingertips brushed his cheek and her thumb glided across his bottom lip in three quick strokes. "Sorry," she said as she pulled her hand back and sucked the tip of her thumb. "You had a little something just there on your lip," she informed him just before she hopped off her stool and carried the empty plate over to the sink to wash the dishes.

Tony watched her in silence while trying not to fixate on what had just happened. It was an innocent gesture. At least Tony chose to believe it was. Their banter may have bordered on suggestive from time to time, but otherwise she had made her boundaries pretty clear. He was reading too far into it. Wasn't he? Tony drowned his uncertainties with another gulp of coffee and suppressed the urge to ask the question that was suddenly plaguing him.

"Sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. cut in, saving Tony from his thoughts and probably himself. "Colonel Rhodes is here."

Tony sat up straight. "Rhodey?" He enjoyed a visit from his best friend as much as the next person, but the timing wasn't exactly ideal.

Martha dried her hands on a towel and turned to face Tony quickly. "You didn't tell me you were expecting company."

"That's because I wasn't," Tony informed her.

"I'll make myself scarce," Martha told him quickly and moved to head back to the bedroom.

"Hey…" Tony reached for her, hand landing at the small of her back and stopping her from leaving. "You don't have to go."

"Don't leave on my account," Rhodey insisted. He stood on the opposite end of the kitchen dressed in his Air Force uniform with his hands tucked in his pockets. He pulled his right hand out and gestured to the one Tony had on Martha. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Kinda," Tony replied, not bothering to mask his annoyance.

"It's no bother at all," Martha countered with poise as she put a bit of space between Tony and herself. "You must be James." She offered a hand to him.

"Rhodey," Tony and Rhodey said in unison as the latter shook Martha's hand.

"Rhodey." Martha took her hand back and conceded a nod. "I've heard a lot about you. Tony's always spoken so highly of you."

"I wish I could say the same," Rhodey replied, but his eyes were on Tony instead of Martha. "In fact, I had to hear about you from Bruce."

Tony exhaled sharply. He thought it was rather convenient for Rhodey to suddenly drop in unannounced while Martha was there, but suddenly it all made sense. He had gotten a tip from the not so jolly green snitch.

"He said that you were a doctor?" Rhodey continued.

"I am," Martha confirmed.

"Are you sick?" he asked Tony. "Is it your heart?"

"I'm not sick," Tony assured him. "Martha and I have just been trying out a new therapy technique," Tony added.

Rhodey raised a brow. "So she's your therapist?"

Tony gave a noncommittal shrug in response. "In a manner of speaking."

"A therapist that makes house calls?" Rhodey pressed. "Overnight house calls?"

"Get your head out of the gutter. All we do is talk," Tony said.

Rhodey wore a look of skepticism not unlike the one Bruce had the night before. "About what?"

"Different things at random," Martha answered before Tony could. "Physics. Shakespeare. Magic. It all depends on what comes up at the time." She glanced at Tony. "For instance, cutlery seems to be a reoccurring theme."

"Cutlery?" Rhodey questioned with a frown, but Tony couldn't help but smile at the mention of their inside joke.

"Mmhmm," Martha continued innocently. "We both agree that spoons have universal benefits, but Tony seems quite obsessed with forks."

Tony met her eyes and his smile grew into a full blown grin. "I do love a good fork," he admitted, turning his gaze back to Rhodey. "Martha is allegedly really good with knives though."

"Let's hope you never find out how good," she retorted as she moved towards the exit. "Anyway, you two seem like you have some things that you need to get sorted and I have somewhere I need to be."

Tony followed her with his eyes. "Where?" he asked with a frown.

"Not here," Martha replied, heading towards the bedroom to presumably get dressed.

"I plan on calling you later," Tony yelled after her.

"I plan on answering," she called back.

Tony watched her disappear before grabbing his coffee mug and moving to refill it. Something told him that there was going to be a lecture in his future and wanted to be fully caffeinated in preparation for it.


	11. You're Not Alone

Tony's mug was half empty by the time they reached his workroom. Rhodey hadn't said a word since Martha left them alone in the kitchen and, in Tony's experience, the silence was always worse than the lectures. At least with his work in front of him, Tony could distract his mind. Tony set his coffee aside. "J.A.R.V.I.S."

"Yes sir?" the AI responded.

"Bring up the project I was working on last night."

"Right away, sir."

As the display sprang to life in a bright flash of light, Tony scanned his progress quickly, trying to decide what his next step should be. Turning to reach for his mug, he caught a glimpse of Rhodey from the corner of his eye.

Rhodey stood nearby with his back turned away from the door, arms crossed with one hand covering the lower half of his face. His eyes watched Tony intently. Tony caught his eye briefly and Rhodey lowered his hand to speak. 'Here we go,' Tony thought as he took another huge gulp of coffee and returned his eyes to his work.

"Are you going to tell me what you're doing?"

Tony lowered his mug and made a minor adjustment to his blueprints. "That depends. Are you asked as Rhodey or as Colonel Rhodes?"

"Who is she?" Rhodey asked, cutting right to the chase.

"I told you. She's my doctor."

Rhodey's expression was one of pure skepticism. "Your therapist?"

"In a manner of speaking," Tony repeated his answer from before as he returned his blueprint back to its original state and made a different adjustment. "It's not her area of expertise, but there's a new form of therapy we're trying. It's something experimental."

"You're sleeping with her." It wasn't a question and yet it wasn't an accusation either. It was a simple statement of fact. One that Tony saw no point in denying.

"Yes," he answered, turning to face Rhodey. "But only in the literal sense. There's a strict no sex clause in our agreement."

Rhodey's posture relaxed. "I know she's not having sex with you. The head scarf is dead giveaway."

Tony smirked, suddenly feeling more at ease. "Yea, I asked about that and she said it was complicated."

"Trust me. I grew up with a mom and sisters and I can't even make sense of it all," Rhodey confessed. The two of them shared a quick laugh, but as the silence took over, Rhodey's serious expression returned. "Real talk. Who is she, Tony? Where did she come from? How did you meet her?"

"Who is she? Dr. Martha Jones. Where did she come from? The accent would indicate England," Tony answered, earning an eye roll from Rhodey. "As for where we met…" He lifted his cup to take another sip of coffee. "I met her at church."

"You met her at church? _You_?"

Tony shrugged. "I hear that's where you go to meet nice girls, but I have to admit that sounds a bit exclusive. I should probably hit up a few mosques and synagogues to cover my bases. Maybe a temple or two."

Rhodey sighed in exasperation. It was a sound that was a familiar to Tony as Martha's amused huff was becoming. Tony called him his best friend but in truth their bond ran deeper than that. Rhodey was like his older brother. He was always looking out for him and coming to his rescue. More often than not, that meant saving Tony from himself.

Tony's thoughts drifted back to a moment during their MIT days. He had always been well known around campus. Besides the fact that he was Howard Stark's son and a child prodigy, Tony also had a tendency to write checks with his mouth that his ass couldn't cash. Rhodey had stopped him from getting his head bashed in on more than one occasion.

"You know, for a genius you never seem to use your head," Rhodey told him back then.

"It's a good thing I have you to watch my back then," Tony retorted. And he did have his back. Both then and now.

"Tony…talk to me," Rhodey pleaded. "I'm worried about you. Bruce is obviously worried about you. Pepper…"

"Pepper?" Tony cut him off. "You told Pepper?" He exhaled sharply. "What's next? Are you going to tell me that S.H.I.E.L.D. knows as well? Is Fury interested in who's sleeping in my bed?"

Rhodey folded his arms again. "I can't say that he'd be interested on a personal level, but you _are_ still on his radar. And if Pepper ever lets it slip to Maria Hill, then it's only a matter of time before Fury finds out as well."

"What are you governing my life by committee now?"

"They say it takes a village to raise a child," Rhodey quipped.

Tony exhaled sharply. "Is there nothing sacred anymore? A man can't even have a breakdown in the privacy of his own tower?"

Rhodey latched onto that. "Is that's what happening? Are you having a breakdown?"

Tony took a deep breath and let it out slowly. As he drained the last of his coffee from his mug, he wished he had some scotch to refill it with, but his promise to Martha was deterring him for the moment. He looked at Rhodey again, but didn't meet his eyes.

"I tried it your way," he began. "There was a meeting at a church in Hell's Kitchen for trauma survivors. I went. I sat. I listen, but I didn't share. It didn't feel right. So I started to leave, but before I could get out the door, I met Martha." He ran a hand through his hair. "She said she understood what I was going through and she thought we could help each other. So here we are," he finished with a shrug.

"Okay, but what do you actually know about her?"

"Not nearly enough, but I know I can trust her."

"How?" Rhodey demanded. "You just said yourself that you barely know her."

"Because I just do," Tony answered quickly. "Look…I'm not going into this blind. I've learned my lesson. The closer you let people get the easier it is for them to stab you in the back. I get it. I even did a background check on her."

"And?" Rhodey pressed.

"You ever hear of UNIT?"

The question drew Rhodey up short. "UNIT? She's military?"

"Chief medical officer," Tony replied. "She also knows a thing or two about alien invasions." He paused, trying to decide how much of Martha's story he should share. "She's been through a lot, Rhodey," he continued after a long pause. "I'm talking end of the world bad and she's got the scars to prove it. But despite all of that, she's…hopeful and she thinks that we can help each other."

Rhodey nodded slowly. "And what do you think?"

Tony exhaled through his nose. "I want to believe it," he confessed. "I mean the cuddling is nice and I do seem to sleep better when she's around."

Rhodey quirked a brow. "Are you into her?"

"What?" Tony scoffed. "No. I mean, yeah, she hot. And she's funny. She's smart. Her accent is one of the more bearable British ones. She smells nice…"

"I'm sorry," Rhodey interrupted. "Weren't you supposed to be convincing how much you're _not_ into her?"

Tony exhaled sharply. "Martha and I are friends, alright? Nothing more and nothing less."

"A friend that you cuddle up with?"

"Only because you're always playing hard to get, honey bear." Tony moved towards him with open arms. "Come on. Bring it in. Give daddy some love."

Rhodey shook his head but allowed Tony to pull him into a tight embrace all the same. "Don't shut me out, okay?" he requested over Tony's shoulder. "You're not alone. I love you, brother. You don't have to suffer in silence."

Tony pulled back. "I'd prefer not to suffer at all."

"And I'd prefer to have a pretty doctor in my arms every night too, but we can't always get what we want."

"She's got a sister," Tony offered with a shrug. "Granted, I know even less about her than I know about Martha but she is pretty. J.A.R.V.I.S., can pull up a picture of Martha's sister from Facebook or Instagram or something?"

"Right away, sir," the AI responded.

"I can find my own dates," Rhodey retorted, moving to leave.

"Just putting it out there," Tony insisted as he returned his attention back to his blueprints.

Rhodey paused at the door. "Don't forget what I said."

Tony kept his eyes on the display but nodded slowly. "Thanks."

"You know I'd do anything for you, Tony. All you gotta do is ask."

Tony nodded again. He waited a little while until he was sure that Rhodey was gone before he hazarded a glance over his shoulder. Once he knew he was alone, he exhaled slowly and leaned against his workbench.

"Sir?" J.A.R.V.I.S. cut in breaking Tony from his thoughts. "Do you still want me to display the results of the image search for Letitia Jones?"

Tony briefly thought about spamming Rhodey's email with photos of Tish, but decided against it. "No. Just get Martha on the line."

"Calling Dr. Jones," J.A.R.V.I.S. announced. Tony made a handful of quick adjustments to his designs while he waited for the call to connect.

"I'm not even back to my flat and you're already ringing me up?" Martha asked with an amused huff once J.A.R.V.I.S. put her through. "Have you always been this clingy?"

"Only with the ones that matter," Tony answered absently while making more changes to the blueprints. "Are you free tonight?"

"Your place or mine?"

"Yours," Tony said quickly, thinking of Rhodey and Bruce's surprise appearances. "Oddly enough, you seem to have better security."

"Alright, but it's your turn to cook breakfast."

Tony smiled to himself. "I'll bring the strawberries."


	12. Green Eyes and Hairy Feet

After Rhodey left, Tony dedicated a few hours to his work. Bruce had other projects to hold his attention, but solving the Ultron riddle was at the forefront of Tony's mind. However, when it became clear that he wasn't going to make the progress he was after, he called it quits, took a shower and headed to Martha's place. Making a quick detour to get some strawberries, he arrived at Martha's apartment in record time.

When Martha opened the door, Tony offered up the strawberries and smile. "Delivery for Martha Jones."

Martha bit back a smile of her own. "You're not my usual delivery boy." She took the strawberries then stared at him expectantly. "Are you waiting for a tip?"

"Certain films would suggest that this exchange ends with you inviting me in and taking me to bed," Tony quipped.

Martha huffed softly. "If that's what you're after, then you should have brought me a pizza as well," she insisted as she let him into her apartment.

Tony stepped inside with an amused smirk. "Are you telling me that would have actually worked?"

"That I'd trade sex for pizza?" She scoffed as she closed the door. "Not on your life, but at least I'd have some pizza."

"Are you hungry? Did you eat?"

Martha nodded and moved over to the sink to fill her electric kettle. "I grabbed a bite on the way in, but I could always make room for some pizza."

Tony was in the process of shrugging his coat off, but he halted his movement. "Do you want me to order you a pizza?"

Martha paused to think. "Mmm…better not. I'm thinking about pizza right now, but I've also been craving dumplings. And then there's the food truck that's currently parked a couple of blocks down from my building that supposedly has the _best_ barbacoa tacos you've ever tasted. I'm not sure I'd be able to make up my mind."

"You can have all three," Tony suggested as he proceeded to remove his coat and hang it up near the door.

"Don't tempt me!" Martha retorted with a quiet laugh.

Tony headed over to her sofa and took a seat. "Have I ever told you that your food obsession is actually pretty adorable?"

"No, but you could always buy me a mug that says it," Martha quipped. She dropped two tea bags into mugs then turned to face him. "I suppose I do sound a bit of a hobbit though, don't I?"

"Why? Because you're tiny, perpetually hungry and you have hairy feet?" Tony teased.

Martha gasped. "I do _not_ have hair on my feet!"

"You're a mammal," he countered. "You have hair everywhere."

She shook her head and returned her attention to fixing their tea. "So does that mean you're not one of those blokes that like their women to be dolphin smooth?"

"Nothing wrong with a little hair," Tony replied. He slipped his shoes off and propped his feet up on the sofa. "For example, I'm imagining my beard on you right now."

Martha picked up both cups and carried them over to the couch. "I don't know if you were being cheeky on purpose just then or if that was purely accidental."

"Happy accident, but it lets me know where your mind is, perv," he answered as he took the mug she offered him. It was white with a grey wolf on the side and the words 'winter is coming' and the name 'Stark' printed in grey as well. "Am I supposed to know what this means?"

"You know nothing, Jon Snow," Martha replied with a chuckle into her tea.

"Are you calling me a bastard?" Tony questioned, feigning offense. "I don't even have to watch the show to know that Jon Snow is Ned Stark's bastard."

" _Are_ you a bastard?" she challenged, making herself comfortable at the opposite end of her couch and propping her legs up so that they lay across the top of his legs.

"Only in personality," Tony shot back playfully.

Martha took another sip of tea. "You're not so bad."

Tony shrugged. "I'm not so good either."

Martha dropped her mug slowly and rested it on her thigh. "You seriously believe that, don't you?"

At that point, Tony's cup suddenly seemed a lot more interesting. "Is this a gift or a loan?"

"It's a gift and don't change the bloody subject," Martha snapped.

Tony met her eyes. Everything about her expression said that she wasn't going to let this go easily. "You're not my therapist."

"You're right. I'm not your therapist. I'm just someone that's trying to be your friend."

Tony's earlier conversation with Rhodey played in his head. _'You're not alone. You don't have to suffer in silence.'_ He lowered his own cup. "You _are_ my friend."

"Good." Martha placed a hand on his ankle and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Now that we've got that established…you know you can tell me anything, yea?"

"Anything?" Tony challenged.

Martha picked her cup up with both hands and brought it to her lips. "Anything," she confirmed with a nod. "Just bear in mind that you're without your armor and I'm within striking distance," she pointed out while lifting her foot to toe his belt buckle.

Tony glanced downwards at her foot. "Should I have worn a cup?"

"Only you can answer that."

Tony shifted his mug to cover his lap. "I should have worn a cup."

Martha laughed into her tea. "If you do, give me a warning so I won't be wondering whether it's just the cup or if you were happy to see me."

Tony met her gaze once more. "I'm always happy to see you, Doc." He used his free hand to stroke her bare foot. "And your hairy feet too."

"Arsehole!" Martha retorted with a laugh, using her foot to give him a quick jab in stomach.

"You know what I was just thinking?" Tony continued. "Since this is a sleepover, shouldn't we braid each other's hair? How about I start with your toes?"

"You really are a bastard," she accused. She kicked him once more before pulling her foot back and crawling off the couch.

"Where are you going?" Tony asked, watching her walk away.

"To bed," she answered petulantly. " _Alone_."

Tony sat up straight. "All this over your hairy feet?"

"Call my feet hairy one more time," Martha retorted crossly. "I dare you!"

"Seems like an extreme reaction to have over some feet. I mean—" His words were suddenly cut off by the pillow she flung at his face. "Was that really—" Once again he was cut off. This time by a blanket. Tony set his mug aside for fear of further retribution. "What's next the mattress?"

"You're sleeping on the couch," she announced unceremoniously as she flicked the lights off one by one.

He followed her movements with his eyes. "You're not kicking me out?"

Martha slipped into bed and rearranged the remaining pillows. "Not before I get my breakfast in the morning," she said simply just before switching the lamp next to her bed off.

Tony sat stunned on the couch, surrounded by silence and darkness, wondering if he had accidentally tapped into some untold trauma about hairy feet. Abandoning his tea, he stretched out on the couch with the pillow and blanket and closed his eyes.

It wasn't terribly uncomfortable, but Tony still couldn't relax. Not while Martha was angry at him. He tossed and turned for a few minutes before he finally opened his eyes and sat up. "I'm sorry," he told her through the darkness. "Please don't be mad."

The lamp suddenly flicked on and Martha was sitting up in bed with a rueful smile. "Yea, it's not fun when your mates make you think they're angry when they're really not, is it?" she asked pointedly.

Tony stared at her in confusion. "What?"

"Last night. Green eyed monster. Conciliatory cuddling," she reminded him with one arm crossed over the other.

Realization washed over Tony. This was payback for the cold shoulder he gave her after she teased him for being jealous. "You knew I was joking."

"Not at first, but I figured it out."

Tony nodded slowly then paused as he zeroed in on one detail in particular. "So you knew I was faking and you spooned me anyway?" he questioned with the beginnings of a grin.

"Maybe I was cold," Martha shot back, collapsing against the mattress at the implied accusation.

"Are you cold now?" Tony asked. "I mean I'm not a meteorologist, but I do have a mug that says 'winter is coming.'"

Martha huffed. "It's bloody April!"

"Okay so it's not coming for another nine months, but it _is_ still coming," Tony insisted, rising from the couch. "Sooner than that, if you live below the equator." He moved over to the empty side of the bed with his pillow and blanket in tow. "So can I come to bed or do I need to go get that pizza first?"

Martha pursed her lips for a moment while she considered, then flung the covers back for him to climb in. Tony didn't waste any time curling up next to her. Her expression relaxed into something more pensive as they settled into a comfortable position. "My feet might have a teeny tiny bit of very fine, nearly invisible hair," she conceded.

"And my eyes might get a little green where you're concerned," Tony confessed.

"So I take it this is a bad time to mention that Rhodey looks attractive in his uniform?" Martha asked.

"And _I'm_ the bastard?" Tony scoffed as he rolled away. "I'm sleeping on the sofa," he threatened playfully.

"Don't!" Martha begged with a laugh as she tugged him back by the shirt. "I'm sorry. Forgive me?"

Tony rolled onto his back. "I forgive you," he answered. "You forgive me?"

Martha tucked herself into his side and laid her head against his shoulder. "I forgive you."

Tony threw an arm around her shoulder and hugged her close. "Do you think I'm a good man?" he asked after a long silence.

"I think you want to be." Martha lifted her head slightly. "And you _try_ to be." She shrugged. "It's not easy being a hero. Sometimes…no matter how hard you fight…you still lose," she reasoned. "And I think you're the type of man that could win ninety-nine times but it's the one loss you're afraid of being remembered for."

Tony suddenly felt vulnerable, but he forced himself to meet her eyes in spite of that feeling. "I'm afraid of a lot of things," he confessed.

Martha rolled over her stomach and leaned her chin against his chest so that they were eye to eye. "Tell me."

"You want to know what I'm afraid of?"

"I want to know it all," she clarified. "Tell me about the real Tony Stark."

"The _real_ Tony Stark," he repeated. "You sure you ready for that?"

Martha smiled warmly. "How about you show me yours and I'll show you mine," she suggested.

Tony nodded. "Alright." He took a deep breath and let it out in a quick burst. "Might as well start at the beginning."


	13. Fell On Black Days

For the next seven months, Tony and Martha met up at least once a week. They took turns with the location, a feat made easier by Martha's security clearance at the Tower and the spare key she had given Tony to her flat. Barring any scheduling conflicts, most of their meetings took place on Saturdays nights.

The visiting person usually arrived an hour or two before midnight. In Tony's case, he often brought snacks when he visited Martha. Pizza. Dumplings. Barbacoa tacos. Shawarma. Anything she mentioned craving in passing or just things he thought she'd enjoy.

"I'm going to end up weighing a ton dealing with you," Martha scolded playfully one evening as they sat on her couch indulging in cheese fries and frozen custard from the Shake Shack, instead of their usual bedtime tea. "I can practically feel my bum getting bigger with each bite."

"Is it?" Tony asked, allowing his eyes to sweep over her figure. "Here…" He pushed the rest of his food in her direction. "Finish mine too." Martha rolled her eyes in response, but it didn't stop her from snagging a fry off his plate.

After they ate or had their customary cup of tea, next came Tony's favorite portion of the evening, the part where they curled up in bed and talked. Martha wanted to know about the man behind the armor and little by little Tony allowed his façade to fall away.

He told her about his childhood. About his parents and the real Jarvis. He told her about his work. His days at MIT and meeting Rhodey. Growing up in his father's shadow. He told her about Pepper and Happy. The caves and Yinsen. Phil Coulson and the other Avengers. The Battle of New York and his face off against the Mandarin.

Martha, in turn, told him about her family. About her mom's career as a barrister and her father's affair. About her sister Tish's wild antics and the fact that her baby brother got his wife pregnant back when they were still teenagers. She told him about the time she broke her arm as a kid and realized that she wanted to be a doctor. About medical school and the first time she met the Doctor. She told him about all the beautiful things she saw and all the hatred she experienced. About the Master and the Year That Never Was. Torchwood and UNIT. The friends she gained and the ones she lost, either by death or distance.

No topic was off limits. But when things got too heavy, they turned to lighter fare. Like how Martha accidentally got addicted to the soap opera General Hospital since living in the States. "I reckon it was the hospital in the title that piqued my interested even though as a rule I try to avoid medically themed shows," she informed him.

"Too real?" Tony questioned.

"Hardly." She scoffed. "I went on such a big tirade during an episode of Grey's Anatomy one time that my sister banned me from her flat whenever it's on." She sighed softly. "Luckily for me, the people of Port Charles are usually more concerned with love triangles and mob wars than engaging in unrealistic medical practices."

On a different occasion, they discussed how Tony's mother had taught him how to play the piano as a boy and the one summer he thought about giving everything up and becoming a professional musician.

"You sing?" Martha asked with interest while they spooned in his bed.

Tony shrugged. "I can carry a tune."

"Prove it," Martha challenged.

Tony scoffed. "You want me to sing to you?"

Martha turned to face him fully. "Think of it as a lullaby," she insisted with that disarmingly bright smile of hers.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., play a lullaby for me," he requested.

"Right away, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. responded. A moment later Metallica's _Enter Sandman_ began to play.

Martha laughed. "This is what you consider a lullaby?"

"I told you metal was a way of life," Tony retorted. "J.A.R.V.I.S., let's try something a little less metal and a bit more mellow," he suggested. "How about a little Billy Joel?" The first song ended abruptly and was replaced by _Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel)_.

Tony cleared his throat and began to sing along softly. Martha's eyes went a bit wide in shock at the sound of his singing, but her expression eventually settled into an appreciative smile. She cuddled up closer to Tony, resting her head against his chest and closing her eyes. Tony closed his eyes as well and continued to sing. By the time, the song was over, Martha was asleep and Tony found himself drifting off not long after.

Tony's second favorite part of their ritual always came the morning after. The perk of their Saturday night sleepovers was that they could have lazy Sunday mornings. Most days, one of them would sleep in while the other cooked breakfast. They did cook together on occasion though.

In their time together, Tony expanded his egg cookery repertoire to include quiche, eggs benedict and huevos rancheros. Martha gained confidence in her cooking as well, treating Tony to a full English breakfast one late summer morning.

"You have no idea how hard it is to find decent back bacon in this country," Martha informed him as she set a plate between them laden with fried eggs, smoked bacon, thick sausages, grilled tomatoes, fried mushrooms, fried bread and baked beans. "Most shops only carry the streaky sort you lot love so much."

Tony stared down at the food and the daunting task that lay ahead of him. "When this meal inevitably leads to me having a heart attack, you have my permission to administer CPR," he announced as he picked up his fork. "Feel free to use tongue."

It was a comfortable routine they had developed. And the fact that Tony hadn't had a nightmare or anxiety attack in a while went a long way in assuaging the collective worries of Rhodey, Bruce and Pepper.

All in all, life was on the upswing. So naturally, the dark part that resided in the recesses of Tony's mind was waiting for the other shoe to drop. And come November 4th, it did.

The morning before, Tony had returned to the Tower from Martha's place in good spirits. After a quick shower, he retreated to his workshop with renewed inspiration and a fresh pot of coffee. He worked all night and well into the afternoon of the next day. By the time he emerged, news of the battle in Greenwich was everywhere.

Tony watched the footage keenly. Thor and some freaky looking aliens, or whatever the hell they were, were falling in and out of portals on and around the grounds of the Old Royal Naval College. The damage may have been of a different scale, but the chaos still triggered memories of the Battle of New York in Tony's mind.

With no warning, Tony's body began to react. It was suddenly hard to breath. His head, stomach and muscles began to ache all at once. His heart was racing. Sweat was beading on his skin. His surroundings suddenly felt too loud and too bright.

Tony stumbled over to the bar and poured himself a glass of scotch with shaky hands. Half of his first attempted sip ended up down his chin and shirt, but he still managed a good gulp. He was in the middle of refilling his glass when he forced himself to speak. "J.A.R.V.I.S., I need Martha." He sank to the ground with his glass in one hand and the bottle in the other. With his back pressed against the bar, he closed his eyes and tried to regain control of his mind and body.

"Tony?"

He opened his eyes and looked directly into the brown ones belonging to Martha Jones. He didn't remember hearing her arrive, but he also didn't recall abandoning his glass and draining the rest of the scotch directly from the bottle either.

"Hey," Martha said gently. She held her hands up on either side of his face as if she wanted to touch him, but was afraid to do so for whatever reason. "I'm here, alright?" Tony closed his eyes and leaned his cheek against one of her palms. That must have been the signal she was waiting for because he suddenly felt her other hand on the opposite side of his face. "I've got you, love. We're going to get you through this."

Next thing he knew, Tony was up on his feet and moving with Martha's hands guiding him gently. He was aware of what was happening and yet none of it felt real. It was almost as if it was all a dream or he was watching this happen to someone else that vaguely resembled him.

"Open your eyes," Martha asked softly. Tony didn't even remember closing them again, but he silently obeyed. "I know you're feeling out of sorts right now," she began. "You need to regain control and that's easier said than done, but I'm going to help you. So I want you to listen to me, alright? Listen to my voice. Listen to the sound of my breaths. Do you hear it?" She exhaled slowly through her mouth. "Can you match my rhythm?" She took a few deep breaths and Tony forced himself to match her pace. "There you go. That's brilliant. Keep breathing. Just like that."

She took a step away and Tony followed her with his eyes. It was at that point that he realized they were in his workshop. He didn't even know how he got there, but Martha must have brought him there thinking it was the place he'd find the most comfort.

"Can you give me your hand?" Martha requested when she returned to stand in front of him. He raised his arm slowly, careful to keep breathing. Martha took his hand gently, turned it over so the palm was facing upward and placed a Rubik's cube in his hand. "Solve it."

Tony stared at her in confusion. "What?" he thought aloud between breaths.

"I know it sounds daft with everything that's going on, but trust me," she insisted. "Solve it."

Tony inhaled deeply through his mouth and exhaled slowly through his nose. He gripped the cube in one hand for a few minutes before he conceded to matching up the squares by color. When he finished, he held up for her to see.

Martha promptly plucked it out of his hand, undid all of his work and passed it back to him. "Do it again."

Tony had felt a lot of things when Martha was around, but for the first time, he was feeling angry. Genuine anger. He was already trembling and now he felt even worse. "No."

"Do it again," she repeated firmly.

"No!" he shot back in a shaky voice, breathing techniques forgotten.

"Tony…trust me."

Tony snatched the cube back and worked through the puzzle as quickly as he could. Once done, he slammed it back into her hand. "Satisfied?"

"Nope." She screwed it up again and handed it back to him again. "Keep going."

They went back and forth a few more times until he finally had enough. "What's the fucking point of this?" he demanded.

"It's a distraction," Martha replied calmly. "And it seems to have worked. Your breathing has normalized." She reached for his wrist and glanced at her watch. "Your pulse is still racing a bit, but I imagine some of that from you being so cross."

At that moment, Tony noticed the changes in his mind and body. The tension was all but gone. The aches stopped. His focus felt sharper. He glanced down at the cube then up at her. "How?"

"Grounding technique," she answered, releasing his wrist. "I needed to get you out of your head for a bit and back into the reality. Give you something that you could control. Your breathing was a start. Then I noticed the Rubik's cube. I know you like to use your work to cope with things. So I figured that tactile association in conjugation with breathing techniques with help center you."

Tony lowered his eyes, allowing all his anger to melt away and the shame to wash over him. "I'm sorry for going off on you."

Martha shook her head. "It's fine. I mean I've said meaner things than that when I've been pissed."

"Pissed angry or pissed drunk?"

Martha paused to think. "Both." She cracked a smile and Tony felt himself relax a bit more.

He sighed softly and ran a hand through his hair. "I feel like shit."

"You look like it too," Martha teased, reaching over and smoothing his hair back down. "When's the last time you slept?"

"When I was at your place," he admitted, sheepishly.

"You've been up since Sunday morning?" She checked her watch again. "Bloody hell, Tony! What about food? Have you eaten anything at all since then?"

Tony shook his head. "Not unless scotch and coffee count."

Martha exhaled sharply. "You bloody well know that they don't." She took him by the hand and pulled him to his feet. "C'mon," she said as she began to drag him up the stairs.

"Where are we going?"

"Well first we're going to get some food in your system," Martha announced. "Something light. Maybe just a turkey sandwich to start. And water. Lots of water. And no coffee or alcohol for a while, yea? And then after that, you're going to get washed up and you're going get some sleep even if that means I have to give you a sedative." She stopped and turned to face him once they reached the top of the stairs. "Are we clear?"

Tony nodded slowly. "Clear."

"Good. I'm going to need to borrow something to sleep in. I came straight here when I got your call. I didn't have a chance to go round to my flat."

"You're spending the night?"

Martha scoffed. "Of course I am." She lifted her hand to touch his cheek. "It seems as though I can't trust you to take proper care of yourself unsupervised. So I guess I'll just have to take matters into my own hands."


	14. Aftershocks

Tony ate the turkey sandwich that Martha set before him without much resistance. He also dutifully drank the bottle of water that she served with it and didn't put up a fight when she shooed him off to shower. It isn't to say that he wasn't perfectly capable of taking care of himself. But, admittedly, there were times when his focus on work took precedence over tasks like sleeping and eating. He supposed that was a trait he had inherited from Howard.

Now that he was bathed and fed, the full weight of his exhaustion hit him. When he returned to his bedroom, Martha had changed into his Black Sabbath t-shirt and was pacing back and forth with her cellphone pressed to her ear.

"No, nothing is wrong, mum. I just wanted to call you early because have some things I need to take care of tonight. No, it isn't for work." She scoffed quietly. "No, it's not a date either." Tony cleared his throat gently and Martha turned her eyes his way. "Mum, I've gotta go. Mmhmm. I'll ring you tomorrow. Yea. I know. I love you too. Bye." She ended her call and set her phone aside. "Sorry. I didn't want to be interrupted."

"I take it your mother doesn't know about our little arrangement," Tony said as he moved over to the bed and pulled the covers back.

Martha let out a mirthless laugh. "No, if my mum knew about our little arrangement, she'd be on the first flight over from London to interrogate you about your intentions and give you a good slap if you said the wrong thing."

"My intentions are pure," Tony replied once they both were in bed. "Well _mostly_ pure."

Martha huffed as they wrapped their arms around each other. "You're incorrigible."

"You don't seem to mind."

"Perhaps, I'm just desensitized at this point," Martha suggested.

"Maybe." Tony shrugged. "Or…maybe on some level you actually like the attention."

She shrugged as well. "Maybe I do."

Tony was a flirt by nature. Another trait he got from his father. Most of the things he said were harmless, but he did on occasion wonder if he was making Martha uncomfortable. "You'd say something if I ever offended you, right?"

"Bloody right I would," Martha assured him. "And you'd get a slap as well."

"Wouldn't be the first time." Tony looked down at her hands, taking one into his own and inspecting her fingers. She had a gentle touch, every bit the healing hands one would expect from a doctor. "I don't think I ever properly thanked you for coming to my rescue," he told her quietly.

"That was the whole point of this whole arrangement wasn't it?"

"I guess I've just grown accustomed to being the one doing the rescuing," Tony joked.

Martha laced her fingers with his and gave his hand a light squeeze. "Even heroes need saving sometimes."

Tony chuckled softly. "You're definitely my hero, Martha Jones."

"All in a day's work," Martha retorted as she pulled her hand away from his and gave his cheek a gentle caress. "Now get some sleep."

Tony relaxed into a comfortable position with Martha snuggled up close to him. Once he closed his eyes, his exhaustion hit him like a blow from Mjolnir being wielded by the Hulk. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep and with sleep came another dream.

His recurring nightmare about the Battle of New York was replaced by images of Greenwich. The scene played out like it did on the screen when he watched it earlier, except this time Tony decided to do something. But he couldn't do anything. He wasn't Iron Man. Not anymore. He had destroyed his armors and walked away. Anything that happened now…anyone that died when he could have stepped in…it was all on him.

Tony sat up bolt straight. His head was pounding and he was soaking from head to toe. 'It was only a dream,' he reminded himself mentally.

"Tony?" Martha's voice broke through the haze and he turned to see her next to him, her face contorted in confusion and her eyes full of concern.

"I'm alright," he croaked, feeling nothing of the sort.

Martha narrowed her eyes and he instantly knew that she didn't believe that for a second, but she didn't fight him. She gave a simple nod and slipped out of bed. "Go wash up. I'll strip the sheets."

It was only then that Tony registered that isn't sweat he felt on his skin. He had wet the bed. He couldn't remember anything like that ever happening in his entire life and the first time it did it had to be when he wasn't alone. Feeling chastened and demoralized, he pulled himself up and skulked off to the bathroom.

Tony stripped out of his clothes and stepped into the shower. As he stood beneath the water, he mentally tried to reestablish some semblance of control over his life. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine the Rubik's cube.

Left alone with his thoughts, Tony lost all track of time. The only indicator he had was the coolness of the water pounding against his flesh and the pruning of his skin. Otherwise, he had no way of knowing how long he'd been standing there. However much time passed, it must have been long enough to send up a red flag because suddenly the water was off and Martha was escorting him over to the tub where a warm bath was waiting.

Tony remained quiet while she cleaned him up, dried him off and helped him into a fresh pair of pajamas. With anyone else, it might have made him feel pathetic and infantile, but Martha just had a way about her that made it easy to let down his guard. She set him up in one of the guest rooms and then disappeared to clean herself up.

When Martha returned wearing one of his MIT t-shirts, Tony briefly considered making a crude joke about some people being willing to pay big money to get pissed on by a billionaire, but instead he just looked at her with apologetic eyes and said, "That's never happened to me before."

"I worked as an emergency doctor once upon a time," she reminded him as she slipped beneath the covers. "So between that and the more… _unique_ alien physiologies, I've been covered in worse things than urine."

Tony stared at her in awe before managing a weak smile. "I really shouldn't find that sexy. I'm not sure what that says about me."

"That you're feeling better, hopefully."

Tony wasn't feeling 100% yet, but he was happy that he didn't have to go it alone. He rolled onto his side and nodded. "Yea, thanks to you. Twice in one day."

"You'd do the same for me." Martha smiled warmly. "Do you want to talk about it?" He shook his head silently. "Alright. Later then," she conceded and reached a hand out, cupping his cheek gently. "How about you try to sleep again, yea? If you like, I can pop down to the shops and get you something to help you sleep."

"Maybe in a bit," Tony answered, leaning into her palm and staring into her eyes. "Can we just stay like this for a while?"

"Of course." She rolled onto her back and bringing him in closer so he could lay his head against her chest while she caressed his back in a reassuring manner.

Tony closed his eyes. "I don't suppose I can get a lullaby out of you, can I?"

Martha laughed softly, jostling his head in the process. "Trust me. The sound of my singing will not bring you _any_ sort of comfort."

"I don't know." Tony snaked an arm around her waist and sank into her embrace. "I've always found you to be very comfortable."

"Well I'm certainly not the cushiest of pillows, but I'm glad you're comfortable."

Tony opened one eye. "Your _pillows_ are just fine," he insisted, closing his eye and nuzzling his face against the fabric of her shirt. "Along with the rest of you."

"Flirt," she accused with a quiet huff.

Tony felt her fingertips brush the nape of his neck. "Takes one to know one."

"No clue what you're on about," Martha objected mid yawn. Tony started to respond, but instead he remained silent and tried to allow his improved mood to shepherd him off to a decent sleep.

After a couple of hours, Martha was fast asleep with her arms wrapped protectively around Tony. Beneath his head, her chest rose and fell in the slow and steady rhythm of peaceful slumber. Tony, on the other hand, was wide awake. Despite his best efforts, sleep never came.

He gently moved her arms and slowly extracted himself from her embrace. Martha murmured irritably and rolled over onto her side without opening her eyes. Tony gently tucked the covers in around her before excusing himself to his lab.

He had been questioning his deciding to destroy his armors for a while and with the image of his most recent nightmare still plaguing him, Tony was more determined than ever to rebuild. "J.A.R.V.I.S., bring up the plans for the Mark XLIII."

Sometime later, Tony was in the middle of tweaking the autonomic prehensile propulsion technology from his previous Mark XLII armor when a pair of hands found his shoulders. "You weren't in bed when I woke up," Martha whispered near his ear. "I was worried."

"I had an idea I wanted to work on," Tony said, keeping his back to her but putting the armor piece in his hand to the side.

"You're tense," Martha commented as she began to massage his muscles gently. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Tony grunted quietly and rolled his shoulders. "Bad posture," he replied, straightening his back.

Martha stilled her hands on his shoulders. "Did you have another nightmare?"

Tony sighed heavily and dropped his head into his hands. "That would require me to sleep."

Martha ran a soothing hand up and down his back. "Do you want me to give you something? A mild over the counter sedative should do the trick."

"No. No drugs." He rubbed his temples. "I'm predisposed to addiction and I already have a hard enough time putting a bottle down. The last thing I need is to start popping pills."

"There's always melatonin," Martha suggested. "Or we could just tire you out the old fashioned way…physical exertion."

Tony spun his chair around to face her. "Come again?"

"Mind out of the gutter, tin man," Martha retorted with an amused expression. "It's like when I used to mind my niece Keisha for Leo and Shonara. We've just got to keep you moving until you're completely knackered." She took him by the hands and pulled him to his feet.

"Are we going back to bed?"

"You know we _could_ spend time together outside of the bedroom."

"The last time I had this conversation there was a decidedly different flavor to it," Tony commented with quirked brow.

Martha rolled her eyes playfully. "I can only imagine."

"You don't have to," Tony countered with a wicked grin.

Martha pursed her lips for a moment before giving a quick nod. "Okay, let's get physical." She tugged him towards the door and up the stairs.

"Wait…what?" Tony managed to get out despite suddenly feeling speechless.

Martha waited until they reached the top of the landing before she stopped and faced him again. "You told me before that you liked to box with your mate Happy, yea? Well do you still have a ring in this place?" Tony nodded wordlessly. "Alright then. You and me. Let's go a couple of rounds," she suggested.

If the thought that she might have been interest in sex had thrown Tony for a loop, then hearing that it was a sparring match Martha was after had him just plain confused. "You want to box?"

Martha nodded. "Mmhmm."

"With me?"

Martha glanced around. "Do you see anyone else here?"

Tony pulled his hand away from her grasp and folded his arms. "You hate exercise."

"Yes, with a passion," Martha agreed.

"Then why?"

"For starters, exercise reduces stress hormones and stimulates the production of endorphins," Martha began, sounding very doctor like.

"And?" Tony prompted. He was sure he knew her well enough at this point to know that she wouldn't subject herself to something she hated on a whim even if it was good for him.

"And…" Martha continued with a slight smirk. "Once I've gone Lennox Lewis on your arse, then you'll owe me one and I plan to collect straight away," she vowed.

"Do I want to know?" Tony asked with a wince as he dropped his arms to his side.

"We're gonna binge watching something I like," Martha answered. "Something _magical_ ," she added as she wriggled her fingers in front of his face.

Tony closed his eyes and groaned. "God, you'd gonna force me to watch Harry Potter, aren't you?"

"People aren't forced into Harry Potter," Martha insisted defensively with a quick jab to his ribs. Tony grunted softly and opened his eyes. Maybe Martha wanting to box wasn't so unexpected after all. "People come around willingly," she continued. "As will you in due time…"

"Don't hold your breath," Tony muttered as she took him by the hand again and started walking.

Martha ignored his sidebar and kept talking. "Until then I have something else in mind. Winter is coming and I think it's time you've learned about the other Stark family, little wolf."


	15. My Week with Martha

Tony always thought that Martha was a tough cookie, but once he stepped in the ring with her he realized that tough didn't even begin to cut it. "Have you had enough yet?" she asked with a pant as she lowered her gloved hands.

"This is me officially crying uncle," Tony replied as he began slip off his boxing gloves.

"Already?" Martha frowned slightly while loosening her own gloves. "You didn't put up much of a fight."

Tony stepped away to grab two bottles of water from the mini refrigerator inside the gym. "Call me old fashion, but I never liked the idea of men hitting women." He tossed one to her.

Martha caught her bottle one handed. "Honorable sentiment, but this isn't remotely the same as a genuinely abusive situation." She twisted the cap off and took a small sip of water. "Next time, don't hold back."

Tony paused mid sip. He swallowed and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "Next time? Is there going to be a next time?"

"Could do." Martha gave a noncommittal shrug. "It was sort of fun."

"Martha Jones having fun with exercise?" Tony faked a surprised gasp.

"Maybe you were right about me just needing to find the right regime," she answered with another shrug. "Or at least the right partner."

Tony nodded. "Alright. The next time we spar I promise not to hold back."

"Good." She took another sip of water. "It won't do you any good, of course," she added with a grin.

Tony shook his head. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a scary little woman?"

Martha's smile widened. "Maybe once or twice."

"I don't know if I'm more frightened or turned on right now."

"Well while you figure that out I'm going to grab another shower."

"That answers that question," he said as his mind began to wonder to thoughts of hygiene.

"You really begging for a slap," Martha retorted as she lead the way out of the gym.

"How about a spanking instead? We can take turns."

"How about you stop running your mouth for five seconds and go cue up the show," Martha suggested with exasperation. "And don't forget the snacks."

When Martha returned from her shower, this time wearing his Bruce Lee Gung Fu Scratch t-shirt with a pair of his boxer shorts, Tony had secured a feast's worth of nibbles from the best food trucks on the block and the first season of _Game of Thrones_ ready to go in the media room.

One episode in, Tony was admittedly intrigued about what exactly had drawn Martha's interest in the first place. It wasn't a kind of show he imaged she'd be into. It was fairly gratuitous in terms of violence and sex, the latter of which he was unsure of how to react to with Martha there. Halfway through the season, Tony was convinced he was more Lannister than Stark. Howard was certainly more Tywin than Ned Stark and Tony felt a certain connect with Tyrion. By the time the credits rolled on the final episode of that season, he was somewhat appeased by the dragons long-awaited appearance, but he was still waiting for that little bastard Joffrey to get what was coming to him.

"Please tell me that someone destroys that little monster soon," Tony commented.

"Nope. No spoilers. You have to wait and see."

"You know I can just look it up on the internet, right?"

Martha was in the middle of peeling the wrapper off a mini cupcake when she stopped to point a threatening finger at him. "Don't you dare! We've got two more series to get through before the fourth one premieres in April."

"April?" Tony scoffed. "What am I supposed to do for five months?"

Martha shrugged as she licked frosting from her fingers. "Read the books," she suggested before popping her cupcake in her mouth.

Tony frowned at her answer and reached over for one of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich cookies that came from a dessert truck. "I don't think I've ever been so intent to see harm done to a child since I was in boarding school."

"Were you bullied?"

"I was smart, rich, good looking and heir to an empire. What could the other kids possibly have not like about me?" he asked sarcastically.

Martha pursed her lips. "Perhaps they were put off by your overwhelming sense of modesty?"

Tony smirked. "Well I can definitely tell you it wasn't my laboratory skills that won them over. They helped ward them off though."

Martha lifted a brow. "What did you do?"

"Nothing fatal." Tony winked at her then took a bit of his cookie sandwich.

"Who's the scary one now?" Martha teased.

"Still you," he said between bites.

Martha laughed. "I find it hard to believe that you, of all people, could ever find _me_ intimidating."

"Then you're not giving yourself enough credit," Tony insisted. Martha met his eyes, but looked away quickly while biting back a smile.

After they cleaned up the remnants of their binge watching session, the two of them headed off to the guest room to sleep. Martha's plan seemed to have worked, because Tony fell asleep with no trouble and, thankfully, there were no nightmares about battling alien invaders. He did, however, have a strange dream where he was the Lord of Winterfell and Martha was the Mother of Dragons.

The next day commenced with their standard breakfast ritual, after which, Tony convinced Martha to blow off her plans for the day so they could continue their binge. "Yea, alright," she conceded easily. "But I need to go back to my flat for a bit to get some clean clothes."

"What's wrong with my wardrobe?" Tony asked. "You look better in it than I do."

"It's decidedly lacking in knickers."

Tony froze as he lifted his coffee cup to his mouth. "You've been wearing the same underwear this whole time?"

"No," Martha answered casually as she finished off her coffee. She headed upstairs to presumably get dressed while Tony wrestled with what to do with that spectacular mental image.

Martha returned to the Tower with a suitcase larger than her usual overnight bag and the two of them spent the next few days holed up inside. A fair chunk of time was devoted to finishing up seasons two and three of _Game of Thrones_ , but they also made room in their schedule for sparring. And when Tony couldn't sleep, Martha joined him in his lab, keeping him company while he worked.

When the weekend rolled around, Tony was sad to see Martha go, but she had forfeited the majority of her week to him and they both knew that the real world waited outside the Tower's walls. So instead of takeout, he treated her to a home cooked meal.

"How in the world do you know how to make goulash?" Martha asked with a wide grin as they sat across from one another in the dining room instead of their usual eating spot in the kitchen.

"Jarvis' wife Anna was Hungarian. It was her recipe," Tony responded. "More wine?"

"If we keep drinking, I don't think I'll be able to make it home tonight," she pointed out with a sly smile.

Tony filled her glass to the brim with red wine. "That would just be tragic."

After dinner, they returned to Tony's bedroom for the first time since his bedwetting accident. They had slept in the guest room those first two nights and afterwards made their bed anywhere they could get comfortable, including the media room floor or the sofa in his workroom that he occasional slept on. It didn't take much, Tony found. All he needed for a good night's sleep was a pillow, a blanket and Martha in his arms.

On Sunday afternoon, after breakfast, Martha returned to her apartment and they resumed their rotation as usual. Tony managed to keep both the nightmares and his loneliness at bay until the following weekend when he joined Martha at her place for a sleepover. By the time the third weekend of the month arrived, he was definitely like himself again.

While he waited for Martha's arrival, Tony busied himself with making improvements to the Mark XLIII armor and going over the preliminary design he had drawn up for a Mark XLIV. The latter of the two was based on an idea he developed with Bruce and he was keen to get the doctor's input on his progress. It wasn't until he journeyed up to the kitchen for a fresh pot of coffee that he took note of the time. It was after midnight and Martha was nowhere to be seen.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., any word from Martha?"

"Sorry, sir. There have been no attempts at communication. Shall I call her for you now?"

"No," Tony replied, already headed for the front door. "I'll check on her myself."

Tony was certain that he had broken more than a few rules of the road as he sped towards Martha's place, but none of that mattered. Something's wrong. He could feel it. Upon reaching her apartment, Tony let himself inside with the key she had given him. Martha was in heap on the ground next to her bed when he found her. There was a corkscrew and an empty bottle of wine on the floor next to her as well as her cellphone. She was still in her pajamas and her face was wet with tears.

Tony rushed to her side. "What happened?"

Martha stared at him in confusion as if she had only just noticed his arrival. "He…he…he's back…he…no _she_ …" She stammered. "Back…she…the…she…" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Who's back?" Tony prompted gently.

"She…she…"

"Hey." Tony crouched in front of her and took her face between to his hands. "Martha…talk to me, sweetheart. Who's back?"

Martha met his eyes and the tears began to start anew. "The Master."

Tony dried her tears with his thumbs. "I don't understand. I thought you said he was dead."

"He regenerated," she explained in a trembling voice. " _She_ calls herself Missy now. She's raised the dead and turned them into Cybermen. And…" She suddenly looked horrified. "Oh my God. Adi…" She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. "That hateful bitch! Isn't it bad enough what she did to my family, but now this as well?"

It took Tony a moment to make the connection, but once he did he understood her anger. Her cousin Adeola had been killed by Cybermen only to have her corpse turned into one by the person who had caused Martha and her family more pain than anyone else, the Master.

"I want to kill her," she said darkly.

Tony shook his head. "I don't believe that."

Martha opened her eyes again. "I do." Her fingers absently curled around the corkscrew next to her on the ground. "I want to rip both of her hearts out with my bare hands."

Tony pulled one hand away from her face and used it to cover the hand she had on the corkscrew. "That's the fear talking."

"I'm not bloody afraid of her!" Martha yelled in his face. Her grip tightened on the corkscrew. "I beat her once and I can beat her again."

"I don't doubt that," Tony assured her as he gently pried her fingers away from the corkscrew. Once he freed it from her grasp, he tucked it into his pocket for safe keeping. "But I don't think it's her that you're afraid of. You're worried about not being able to protect the ones you love."

At his words, Martha's resolve gradually began to crumble. Her eyes went to her mobile. "She won't answer the phone. My mum. Why won't my mum answer her phone?" She started to sob. "What if something's happened to her? I can't get in contact with her and there's nothing I can do from here."

"No, I don't suppose you can," Tony replied. "Which means we've got a lot to do." He stood up and slowly lifted Martha to her feet, steadying her when she wobbled. "First, we'll get you cleaned up. Then, I'll arrange everything while you pack."

Martha dried her cheeks on the back of her hand. "Arrange what?"

"A flight to London on my jet," Tony answered, pulling away from her to reach for his cellphone. "I'm taking you home."


	16. London Skies

Once Tony had managed to talk her down and, presumably, discourage all thoughts of vengeance, Martha gathered some things in a small suitcase. In the name of a timely departure, Tony decided to forgo returning to the Tower to get clothes and sundries for himself. He could always get anything he might need upon reaching London.

The jet was waiting for them on the tarmac by the time Tony and Martha reached the airstrip. Tony hurried to see that she was comfortably on board before going over the particulars with the flight crew. He had called ahead to make sure that there was something on board for Martha to eat. He wasn't sure what she'd be in the mood for so he had his private chef plan for several options. And although it killed a small part of his spirit, Tony also made sure that all of the alcohol had been removed from the aircraft. Martha had already downed an entire bottle of wine and for a woman her size, anything more would be sending her into dangerous territory.

When the pilot alerted him that they were ready for takeoff, Tony returned to the cabin to find Martha curled up in one of the seats and staring out the window. "We'll be in London around noon," he informed her. "Did you try your mom again?"

Martha shook her head slowly. "No," she answered with a quiet sigh. "She's probably still asleep. I wasn't even thinking about the time difference when I rang before. I reckon I just…" She exhaled sharply. "I feel like I'm going out of my bloody mind."

"That's because you're a control freak who's suddenly losing control," Tony said, taking a seat next to her.

Martha huffed. "Tell me what you really think why don't you?" she replied bitterly.

"It's not an insult, Martha. Not coming from me." Tony placed a consoling hand on her leg. "I get it. You know I do."

Martha took a moment to consider his words before conceding a nod. "I just hate feeling this way." Without warning, the tears began to fall once more.

Tony went on his knees next to her seat and dried her face with his thumb. Martha met his gaze through watery brown eyes. She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and bit down on it. "You're a fighter," he told her. "You'll get through this. I know you will."

"Thank you," she said softly, touching a hand to the one cupping her face.

"Even heroes need saving sometimes," Tony insisted.

Once she stopped crying, Tony encouraged her to eat something but Martha didn't have much of an appetite. He took that a proof positive that she wasn't feeling herself, but he wasn't going to force her. Instead, he suggested she get some rest and showed her to the bedroom at the back of the plane. When he turned to give her some privacy, she grabbed him by the hand. "Will you stay with me?" she requested. "I don't want to be on my own right now."

"Of course." Tony crawled into bed with Martha and took her into his arms. They didn't talk. Instead, they just held one another until she eventually drifted to sleep. Tony stayed awake the whole time, keeping a watchful eye over Martha. When the pilot announced their descent into London, Tony nudged her awake gently. "Hey," he whispered close to her ear. "Martha. We're here, honey. You're home."

Martha waited until the plane touched down before she pulled away from him. Once they landed, she gathered her things in silence and Tony escorted her to the runway, where he arranged for a car to be waiting to pick her up and take her wherever she needed to go. "Will you go back to Manhattan now?" she asked, standing between the open door and the car.

"I think I'll stay around for a bit," Tony answered. "It's been awhile since I've been in London." He paused. "You'll call me if you need anything?"

Martha nodded. She moved to get inside the car but turned back at the last moment and threw her arms around Tony's neck, hugging him fiercely. "Thank you for doing this," she murmured against his shoulder.

Tony loosely wrapped his arms around her waist, but when Martha didn't show any immediate signs of letting go, he tightened his hold on her. His eyes closed and he sighed into her hair. "I'd do anything for you."

They pulled apart a short time later and Tony sent Martha on her way with only a silent wave. As he watched her ride off, he knew he had done the right thing, but that didn't explain the nagging sense of regret that was bubbling up inside of him. He pushed it aside and called for a second car to take him to his hotel.

The next few days, while Martha reconnected with family and friends, Tony found ways to keep himself busy, including a trip to the Old Royal Naval College in Greenwich. He wasn't sure what possessed such a move, but he was thankful to have survived the experience with no perceivable damage. He didn't feel any anxiety as he walked the grounds and he didn't have any nightmares when he returned to his hotel to sleep.

For lack of anything better thing to do, he visited the Science Museum in South Kensington and caused a minor ruckus. Once the London scientific community discovered that Tony Stark was in their midst, he suddenly found himself on the receiving of several invitations. However, the only one that mattered was the one that came from his favorite physician.

"Leave it to you to be in town for only 72 hours and make headlines," Martha commented over the phone.

"And with no nudity or property damage," Tony quipped. "I feel like I've grown as a person since meeting you."

"I doubt I can claim credit for that."

"That's because you're too modest."

"One of us ought to be," she joked.

"You wear it better," Tony shot back. "So how are things? How's the family?"

"Things are good," Martha replied. "My family is doing well, all things considered. It was good to spend some time with them. I got to catch up with some old mates as well. I even saw Molly."

"Cuddling Molly?"

"Yep."

"How is she?"

Martha sighed heavily. "Head over heels in love with this detective bloke, but he's an insufferable git so we're not going to talk about that," she said before changing the subject. "So the papers make it sound like you're in high demand. I don't reckon you'd have some time for me, would you?"

"Always," Tony assured her. "You wanna come over and tuck me in?"

"Not tonight. I'm still at my mum's," Martha informed him. "Tomorrow maybe?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"Nothing concrete, but I figured that since we missed our last sleepover and you dropped everything to come all this way just for me then the least I could do is show you a good time while you're in town."

"A good time, you say?" Tony questioned teasingly.

Martha huffed when she realized she had walked right into that one. "Leave it."

"Are you asking me out, Doc?"

"It wouldn't be a date," Martha insisted. "Just a friendly outing."

"Not a date," Tony repeated dutifully.

"So are you free tomorrow or not?" Martha pressed.

"Well the Royal Society invited me to this big event tomorrow night," he informed her. "A cocktail party sort of thing. I could cancel or…you could be my date," he suggested. "In a completely platonic sense, of course."

Martha was silent for a long time on her end of the phone before speaking again. "I'd have to find something to wear," she said finally. "It might be hard on such short notice, but I reckon I could borrow something from my sister."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes," Martha conceded. "Where should we meet?"

"I'll text you the details," Tony promised. "Now go get some beauty sleep. I can't be the only pretty one," he joked.

Martha huffed on the other end of the phone. "Night, pretty boy."

"Night, beautiful." As soon as he hung up with Martha, Tony was up and out of bed, on the phone making calls. First, he texted Martha the details. Next, he rang up the concierge.

"This is Tony Stark up in the Musician's Penthouse. How you doing? What's your name? James? My best friend is named James and you're about to be my new best friend," he told the man on the other line. "Here's what I need from you, buddy. First, I need you to send a tailor up to my suite ASAP. Someone that works well and fast. I need a suit for tomorrow night. Money is no object. Can you do that for me? Good man."

Tony trotted down the staircase to the bottom floor of the penthouse suite and made his way over to the bar area in the lounge. He poured himself a drink before pressing on with his next request. "After that, I need you to get me a stylist." He took a quick sip while he listened. "You don't have to flatter me, Jimmy. There's already a big tip with your name on it. And the stylist isn't for me. It's for a lady. So I'm gonna need dresses. Lots and lots of dresses. Nothing too formal, but keep it classy. Make sure the shoes and jewelry are taken care of as well. I want the whole nine yards. Hair and makeup? Hmm…keep them on standby."

Within the hour, Tony had a tailor knocking on his door. By the time the fitting was done, he had the stylist on the line as well. He gave her all the details he could, including Martha's measurements, the address to her flat and suggestions of style options. Most of the time they spent together, Martha was dressed either in pajamas or his clothes, but Tony had seen her in her regular clothes so he at least had an approximation of what she might choose for herself.

After working out the details, he returned to bed with plans to ring the Royal Society in the morning to make sure Martha's name was on the guest list as his plus one. By early evening the following day, while he was admiring his tailor's handiwork, he received another call from Martha.

"You wouldn't have any idea why someone just delivered a dress to my door, would you?"

"Dress fairy?" Tony suggested.

"How did you even know my size?"

"I'm a genius. You don't think I know how to plot a curve?"

"In that case, do you care to explain why half the dresses were so fitted around my bum?" Martha questioned.

"Were they?" Tony responded quizzically. "Huh…it must have been a miscalculation on my part."

"You're a bloody liar and you damn well know it," Martha accused lightheartedly.

"Hey, I told her to give you options," Tony insisted, maintaining his innocence. "One of them has to work."

"One of them _did_ work," Martha assured him. "I like it anyway."

"Oh?" Tony smirked as he began tying his tie into a half-Windsor knot. "So…" He lowered his voice a bit and upped the charm more than he usually did while talking to Martha. "What are you wearing right now?"

"Three inch heels that I'll gladly introduce to your arse if you not careful."

Tony laughed. "I'm sorry, but I had to do it. The setup was just too perfect."

"Maybe." There was a short paused before she spoke again. "So what are _you_ wearing?" she questioned with decidedly less flirtation than he had used, but there was still playfulness to her tone.

"If I have to wait, then so do you," Tony retorted.

"Are you coming round to pick me up?"

"Give me fifteen minutes."

"I'll be waiting."

Tony quickly pulled on his suit coat and checked his reflection before heading over to Martha's apartment in a hired car. When he saw her smiling face, all felt right in the world. "And I thought your place in Manhattan was microscopic," he commented as he crossed the threshold. "I know you're tiny, Doc, but even you have to feel cramped in this place."

"It beats a cave," she quipped.

Once he was inside, Tony took a moment to look Martha over. She wore a black dress that fell just below her knees. It was an elegant and understated design with a high neck and long sleeves made of a sheer black fabric that cuffed at her wrists. Tony appreciated the way it hugged her curves in all the right ways, but it was when she turned away from him that he noticed the daring cutout design that extended from just below her nape to slightly north of the small of her back.

Martha adjusted his tie. "Nice suit," she complimented.

"The dress is better," Tony assured her as his eyes swept over her form yet again.

Martha smiled her signature billion dollar smile. "Maybe I'll let you borrow it some time."

Tony extended his arm to her. "Shall we?" She slipped her arm through his and they were off to hobnob with the scientific elite.

Martha was a natural when it came to schmoozing. She was funny, intelligent and charming. It wouldn't surprise Tony if one day she was invited to join the Royal Society on the strength of her work with UNIT. Then again, he wasn't sure if they were privy to how much was going on right on their doorstep.

"So are you a Fellow of the Royal Society?" Martha asked sometime later while their made their rounds arm in arm.

"No, but I could swing an invitation if I wanted. All it takes is a nomination from two Fellows."

"Do you _know_ two Fellows?"

"Bruce is a foreign member," Tony informed her. "So is Helen Cho."

Martha gasped. "Helen Cho? As in _Dr_. Helen Cho, the geneticist from South Korea?" Tony nodded. "I heard she's working on technology that could potentially regenerate human tissue," she marveled. "Do you know how many lives could be saved if she sees it through?"

Tony couldn't help smiling at Martha's enthusiasm. "Maybe our next trip should be to Seoul then."

"Trips around the world? New dresses and fancy parties? Are you trying to spoil me?"

"And if I were?" Tony challenged. "You're definitely worth it."

"Thank you," Martha said coyly.

"How about a night cap?" Tony suggested as he escorted her towards the exit. "I booked the Musician's Penthouse at the Corinthia. Come back with me. We'll have a drink and enjoy the view on the terrace."

"That does sound nice," she said with hesitation. "But in case you're wondering, I'm still not shagging you. I may be thankful, but not _that_ bloody thankful."

"I don't expect you to have sex with me, Martha," Tony told seriously and he actually meant it. "It's not necessary. It never has been." He'd be lying if he said the thought never crossed his mind. Martha was gorgeous and having her body pressed against his night after night was bound to stir something inside of him, but he was surprisingly alright with what they had already. "All I want is to spend time with you. So what do you say?"

"Alright," Martha answered with a nod. She tightened the grip on his arm. "I never could resist the London skyline."


	17. Bending the Rules

Martha closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as she hugged her arms tightly around herself. "God, I love this city."

Tony stood next to her on the terrace of his penthouse suite with a drink in hand. The view was breathtaking. The Thames. St Paul's Cathedral. The London Eye. Big Ben. All of it lay before their eyes. And yet, Martha was the only thing he cared about. "Are you cold?"

Martha opened her eyes to look at him. "A little," she answered. "In case you haven't noticed, this dress is backless."

"Oh, I've noticed," Tony assured her. He set his glass down for a moment while he removed his suit coat and draped it over her shoulders.

Martha flashed a smile in his direction. "Thanks." He gave a quick nod as he reached for his glass again. "Can I have a sip of that?" she asked.

"Here." Tony offered her the glass. "I'll make a fresh one." He headed back inside, passing through the bedroom on his way to the stairs and down to the first floor where the bar cabinet was located. Grabbing a fresh glass, he filled it with ice and topped it off with some scotch. He turned to see that Martha had followed him inside. She moved over to the piano, playing notes at random. "Expecting me to sing you another lullaby?"

Martha chuckled softly in her glass. "No. Some music would be nice though." Tony turned to the radio and switched it on. He sifted through the stations looking for one he liked. "Mmm!" Martha squealed through a mouthful of liquor. She quickly swallowed it down and rushed over to where he was standing. "Go back." He moved aside and allowed her to return to one of the previous stations. She settled on one playing _How Deep is Your Love_ by The Bee Gees. "I love this song."

"Aren't you a little young for disco?" Tony quipped.

Martha shook her head as she swayed in place. "Good music is timeless."

Tony took a huge gulp of his scotch before setting the glass down. He slipped his suit coat off her shoulders, tossing it over the back of a chair and took her glass away from her. Once her hands were free, he took them both into his and pulled her over to an open space in the lounge area.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm not letting you dance alone," Tony answered as he wrapped an arm around her back. His hand found its home at the small of her back and his fingertips brushed against the exposed skin there.

She inhaled quickly at the contact and her posture suddenly straightened. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

Tony scoffed. "Full of yourself, aren't you?" He laced the fingers of his other hand through hers.

Martha allowed him to guide their movement through a simple box step. "So you slow dance with all of your mates then?" she challenged.

"Absolutely," Tony insisted as he led them into a slow turn. "Every single one. Rhodey is a bit resistant most of the time, but put a couple of drinks in him and he'll purr like a kitty cat. Belly exposed and the whole nine yards." He pulled back and twirled her around with one hand.

Martha huffed in amusement. "You're ridiculous."

"So I've been told on several occasions," Tony retorted. "I'm gonna dip you now," he added as spun her away from him then pulled her back in, catching her and cradling her in his arms as he angled her towards the ground.

Martha laughed and Tony smiled in response. When he set her back upright, she joined her hands together behind his neck. Tony put both of his hands on her waist and brought her closer. His head tilted downward so that his forehead rested against hers. Martha stroked his nape tenderly and Tony closed his eyes with a content sigh.

When the song ended, it was replaced by _I Can't Go For That (No Can Do)_ by Hall  & Oates. Martha pulled back and looked him in the eyes. Tony leaned forward a bit, allowing his nose to brush against hers. He felt her breath catch as he held her against him and she turned her head away slightly.

Tony let go of her all at once and took a step back, loosening his tie. "Sorry, Doc. I draw the line at Hall & Oates," he announced before making a beeline for his glass and drained it of its contents.

Martha scoffed. "What could you _possibly_ have against Hall  & Oates? Are they not metal enough for you?"

"Nope. It's nothing like that." He refilled his glass and held the bottle out towards her.

She picked up her glass and offered it to him. "Bad breakup?"

"Yea, but not mine," Tony admitted as he topped her off. "Rhodey used to date this girl named Sara. After she dumped him, he went out and bought _Sara Smile_ on a 45. He played that damn thing on constant loop. One day I got tired of hearing it. So I snapped it in two and replaced it with a copy of _She's Gone_." He chuckled at the memory. "He didn't talk to me for a whole day."

Martha slipped her shoes off and got comfortable on the couch. "It's sort of sweet if not…obsessive."

"Yep. Rhodey loves hard. He'd have to for him to deal with me," he joked as plopped down next to her and pulled her feet into his lap.

"What does that say about me then?"

Tony turned his head to look at her. "Masochist?"

"I'm not that submissive," she challenged into her glass.

Tony chuckled and turned his eyes towards the ceiling. "You're killing me here." He leaned back against the sofa and closed his eyes with his glass resting on his knee. They fell into a comfortable silence as Tony basked in the delightful combination of scotch, oldies music and Martha Jones.

Sometime later, Tony opened his eyes again when he felt Martha stirring at his side. "You're not leaving, are you?"

"I should," she replied. "It's getting late."

"Stay here...with me."

"I don't even have anything to sleep in."

Tony sat up and set his glass aside. "What's wrong with what you're wearing now?"

"Are you serious?" Martha glanced down at herself. "It's a bloody cocktail dress!"

"Cocktail dress. Ball gown. Nightgown. Is there really _that_ big of a difference?"

"I don't make a habit of sleeping in chiffon," she said, plucking at her sleeve.

"You should. It looks good on you."

"So you've said." Martha looked up. "Point is, short of stripping down to my knickers, I don't have many options."

"What's wrong with _that_ option? I like that option."

Martha scoffed. "Still looking for a cheap thrill?"

"You may be thrilling, Martha, but you're certainly not cheap," Tony insisted. "And I'm not just talking about the price tag for tonight's festivities." Martha stared at him for a moment before reaching over and untying his tie. "What are you doing?"

"Removing your tie."

"Yea, I got that much. But why?"

"So you can take your shirt off," Martha answered simply.

The only movement Tony made was raising an eyebrow. "Did I miss something? Are you drunk?"

"I'm just as sober as you are. Probably more so." Martha huffed as she yanked the loose tie from around his collar. "Now hurry up and take your shirt off," she demanded.

"Is there going where I hope it's going?" Tony asked with a slight smirk as he started on the buttons.

"Don't make me regret this," Martha pleaded with an exasperated sigh while wrapping his tie around one of her hands.

Eying the tie, Tony continued to work open his buttons. "Are we about to get kinky? A little 50 Shades? Ambitious for the first go round, but I can roll with it. Do we need safe words? If we do, then mine is 'dial-up.' There is no bigger turnoff than a slow internet connection."

"I won't lie. The idea of gagging you is becoming increasingly appealing," Martha admitted. "But I just need your shirt to sleep in."

"You sure you aren't just using this as an excuse to get my clothes off. Because if you want me naked, all you've got to do is ask."

"Just shut up and take your bloody shirt off," Martha demanded as she unbuttoned the cuffs at her wrists.

"See?" Tony stood up and untucked his shirt. "Just like that."

Martha rolled her eyes and stood up from the sofa as well. "Can you undo me?" She turned her back to him.

Tony undid the buttons at the back of her neck, allowing his fingertips to brush against her skin as the fabric parted. 'Not if you undo me first,' he thought to himself. Martha exhaled audibly and he quickly pulled his hand away. "Sorry."

Tony took a step back as Martha slipped her arms out of her sleeves. He knew he shouldn't be watching her but he felt as though he was frozen in place. Martha spun back around to face him, holding her dress against herself. "You're staring."

"Am I?"

Martha nodded. "Yea."

"How about now?"

"Still staring."

"Now?"

"Tony," she said halfheartedly as she stepped around him. He shrugged his shirt off and passed it to her over his shoulder. When he felt her take it, Tony closed his eyes and wondered what the hell was going on with him.

It wasn't like they had never changed for bed before so why did this time feel so different? Granted, she was usually in another room and he had never literally given her the shirt off his back. Nor had he ever had a direct hand in helping her out of her clothes.

He exhaled through his nose, opened his eyes and reached for his drink, downing the rest of it in one gulp. Was he so depraved? How long had it been since he had sex? It was just after the New Year when he and Pepper broke up and here it was nearly Christmastime again. Had it really almost been a full year without Pepper?

Tony stared down into his empty glass. He never would have thought he'd have survived it. Then again, he never would have imagined that someone like Martha would have walked into his life either.

"You look deep in thought," Martha commented. Tony turned his head in time to see her walking over to him as she finished buttoning up his shirt.

"Trying to decide if I want more scotch or something else." It wasn't a _complete_ lie.

"We could dance again," she suggested, extending her had to him.

Tony slipped his hand into hers and drew her nearer, taking hold of her waist. She rested her forearms on his shoulders and they held each other's gaze. Fleetwood Mac's _Dreams_ was playing on the radio. Beneath his palms, her hips swayed to the beat. His grip on them instinctively tightened.

"What are we doing?" Martha asked softly.

"Nothing," Tony said in barely a whisper.

"It doesn't feel like nothing."

"So what does it feel like?"

Martha winced. "Like a bad idea."

"I'm notoriously good at having bad ideas."

Martha let out a slow breath as she met his eyes again. "We said no sex."

" _You_ said no sex."

"And _you_ agreed."

"Because there's a word for it when someone isn't a willing participant," Tony retorted. "I'm a lot of things. Not all of them good. But I'm sure as hell not a predator. So if you want me to stop…"

"I don't want you to stop," Martha confessed quietly.

"How about you tell me what you do want then," Tony asked in an equally soft voice.

"You."

"You can have me," Tony assured her. He pulled her body flush against his and moved to kiss her.

Martha turned her head at the last second. "I want you, Tony. I do, but I don't…" she began then hesitated. "I don't think we should have sex."

"So we won't have sex," Tony insisted. "There are a lot more interesting things we could do that don't involve sex." He leaned in for a kiss again.

Martha dodged him once more. "No kissing either."

"No kissing?" Tony pulled back with a frown. "Really? I mean I've been told that I'm a _great_ kisser."

Martha looked him in the eyes. "I'm sure you are, but no kissing," she stated firmly. "If we started…" She shook her head slowly. "We might not be able to stop ourselves and I don't want to rush into things too fast."

"Okay, but what if I suggested a more _inventive_ alternative?" Tony asked.

"Inventive in what way?" she questioned with a curious expression.

"Look we don't have to break the rules, but it doesn't mean we can't bend them a little. I'm good with my hands and didn't this whole thing start because you were trying to sell me on the importance of touch therapy?"

"What's your point?"

Tony lifted his hand and touched her cheek. "For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss," he quoted.

Martha tilted her head slightly to the left, leaning into his palm. "You're quoting Romeo and Juliet?"

Tony nodded slowly. "Only instead of letting lips do what hands do…how about we let our hands do what we'd like do with our lips?" he proposed, allowing his thumb to graze her bottom lip as he spoke.

Martha closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. "It's definitely inventive."

"So are you in?" Tony pressed, looking for some form of confirmation before they went any further.

Martha opened her eyes. "I'm in," she answered, dropping one hand down to trace his lips with her fingertips. "All in."

Tony reflexively puckered his lips against her touch. "Should we stay put or…"

"Take me to bed."

'Yep, definitely not submissive,' Tony said in his head as he hoisted her up into his arms, guiding her legs around his waist. He carried her over to the elevator in the suite, figuring it was a safer bet than the stairs with their current entanglement. Once they were inside, he pressed her back against the wall and gripped her thigh with one hand as he pressed the button to take them to the second floor of the penthouse. While they wait for the doors to open, Martha's hand dropped away from his mouth and began stroking the scar on his chest gently.

Tony exhaled a breathy laugh. "You really are going to be my undoing, you know that?" he teased.

"How about we undo each other instead?" she suggested with a slight smirk.

"Good plan."

When the elevator doors opened, Tony shifted his hold to cup her bottom in his palms of his hands. Martha lifted a brow in askance. "I needed a better grip," he insisted. She pursed her lips. "Would you rather I drop you?" he challenged, sticking to his story like his life depended on it. He kneeled on the edge of the bed and lowered her gently onto the mattress. Martha gripped his shoulders with both hands and pulled him down with her. He caught himself before he could crash on top of her and landed just to her side.

Martha's eyes locked onto his. They were warm and inviting, much like the smile she offered him. "Hey," she said, tracing his lips with her fingers again.

Tony leaned against her with his hand on her thigh. "Hey," he echoed back to her.

The hand still on his shoulder moved to his neck once more and he responded by lowering his head to her shoulder. She dropped her hand away from his mouth and drew a long line down over his chest. Tony nuzzled against her neck as the hand he had on her thigh disappeared beneath the shirt she was wearing. Her fingers sunk into his hair and one of her legs curled around his back.

They shifted their positions so that she was flat on her back with Tony hovering over her. Martha's other leg wrapped around him and her ankles hooked together behind his back. Her hand on his chest snaked around to clutch his back as the hand he had under her shirt reaffirmed the fact that she hadn't worn a bra with that dress.

"Dial-up." Martha moaned next to his ear. "Dial-up."

Tony groaned softly against her collarbone and obediently retracted his hand. "Are you alright?"

"Tony…" Martha said breathlessly. "There's something I need to say. Something I need to tell you."

"What is it?" Tony resumed his previous machination over the shirt.

Martha used the hand in his hair to angle his head in the direction she wanted. He couldn't help noticing that her mouth was dangerously close to his and he felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her. "You've got to…"

"What?" Tony asked with a pant, willing himself to turn his face away from her and bury it in the crook of her neck. "Tell me what you want me to do."

"You need…"

"What do I need, honey?"

"You need to wake up. It's time to wake up."

Tony stopped what he was doing and lifted his head to meet her eyes. "What?"

Martha opened her mouth to speak, but the voice that came out wasn't hers. It belonged to J.A.R.V.I.S. "Time to wake up, sir."

Tony sat up bolt straight, panting heavily and half spilling the drink he still held against his knee. It took him a moment to process what was happening. He looked down at himself and felt his shirt and tie still in place. To his left, Martha was fast asleep on the couch and still wearing her dress. Everything he had just experience had felt so real, but now it was clear that it had all been a dream.

Rhodey's question about whether or not he was into Martha suddenly popped into Tony's head. He glanced at Martha's sleeping form once more while Elvin Bishop's _Fooled Around and Fell in Love_ played in the background.

Tony fell back against the sofa again with a heavy sigh as he ran a frustrated hand though his hair. "Shit."


	18. New Year, Same Old Problems

Tony Stark was a smart man. His intelligence was one of the things he valued most about himself. On occasion, he had even been called brave. He was also proud. What he was planning to do, however, was inexcusably dumb and cowardly and Tony took no pride in his decision. Sooner or later, he would have to face the music, but first needed to turn off that stupid song.

Tony lifted his glass to his lips and drank the remaining scotch that hadn't spilled on his leg. He was tempted to pour another refill, but his head was already a mess. He didn't need to be inebriated on top of it all. So, he pushed himself up from the sofa, careful not to wake Martha, walked over to the radio and switched it off. The sudden silence in the room caused Martha to stir, but she didn't wake.

Tony stared at her and weighed his options. He wanted to be the man she thought he was, but she had more faith in him than he had in himself. Hopefully, she would hold on to that feeling because, one day, he would try to make it all up to her. One day, if he was lucky, she might even forgive him. But he couldn't think about redemption right now. He had to act before he changed his mind.

He moved over to the couch and gently lifted Martha into his arms. She mewled softly and snuggled up close to his chest. Tony wondered if she could hear the way she made his heart race.

It took some finagling but he managed to hit the elevator button and get inside with Martha in his arms. Once they reached the second floor, he lowered her down gently to bed and tucked her in beneath the covers. Tony watched her for a moment. She looked so calm and peaceful. So beautiful. He wanted nothing more than to slip into bed right next to her and bask in her warmth. Instead, he checked for his wallet and passport, retied his tie, pulled on his suit jacket, and walked away from a good thing.

On his way out, Tony visited the concierge desk to deliver James his tip and some instructions. The penthouse was to be paid for in full along with any additional charges Martha might accrue during the rest of her stay. He even went as far as to reserve a spot at the spa for her just in case. He also left word that his jet would be waiting at the airport for her use whenever she was ready to return to New York. Once all of that was taken care of, he hailed a taxi to the airport.

Tony had no concrete plans in mind. He just knew that he needed time alone to think. He could head back to Manhattan, but he doubted that he have a moment's peace if he did. Sooner or later, Martha would return to the city. And if not her, Rhodey or Bruce would eventually realize that something was amiss. So with no real direction in mind, Tony asked the ticket agent to find him a first class ticket on the next flight departing London for any destination other than New York City.

"Well Mr. Stark, we do have a plane headed for Seoul, but there's a layover in Los Angeles."

"Figures," he said ruefully as his thoughts veered back to Martha.

"Would that be alright?"

Tony shrugged. "What the hell? Book it." With no bags to check and no carry-on luggage, it didn't take long to reach the departure gate. While he awaited the boarding call, Tony checked the time and made a phone call to Korea. "Helen? Tony Stark. Did I wake you? No? Good. So listen…I'm gonna be in Seoul soon. Tomorrow actually. Yea. No. It's not really for business or pleasure. Anyway, I was wondering if you could make a little space for me in one of your labs while I'm in town. How long?" He paused to think. "I'm not sure yet. At least a couple of weeks though. Would that be alright? You're a doll. Okay. Yea, I'll give you a ring when I land. Yea. Thanks again."

After that was settled, Tony made a few more calls to arrange some details for his stay in Seoul. Once everything was squared away, he turned off his phone. The plane was taking off soon and, even if it wasn't, there was nothing else he felt like saying to anyone.

The flights to L.A. and Seoul were fairly uneventful. The one time he managed to drift off, he dreamed of Martha again. He was back in London, back in the penthouse and back in her arms like he should have stayed. When he woke up, he felt like shit and the feeling was only made worse when he thought about Martha waking up alone.

He should have at least left a note. Better still, he shouldn't have left in the first place. But that ship had sailed. He made his damn bed and now he had to lie in it.

Tony didn't bother to turn his phone back on when he reached South Korea. Instead, he bought a brand new one. After upgrading it and patching in J.A.R.V.I.S., he settled in at his hotel, washed the past few days away and headed over to the U-GIN facility to get to work.

Over the next few weeks, Tony developed a comfortable routine with work providing a necessary distraction. Helen popped in now and then to check on him. Her area of expertise was biological as opposed to mechanical engineering, but she still had a keen scientific mind and Tony valued her input. On one occasion, he slipped her Martha's details and told Helen to look her up the next time she was in London or Manhattan.

In addition to being a soundboard for him to bounce ideas off of, Helen also made sure he stayed fed. It was common knowledge that Tony had tunnel vision when he was working. The fact that he hadn't trimmed his beard since leaving London was proof of that. So every so often, Helen would drag him outside for fresh air and treat him to some Korean street food. Her favorite haunt was run by an elderly couple that knew her grandparents. The food was delicious and the shop was open at late into the night, so it appealed to people that kept their kind of hours.

Sometimes Tony would imagine how Martha would react if she was there with them. Her love of food combined with Helen's presence would have been like heaven. He could practically see her smile. When he realized what he was doing, he'd take another shot of soju. Tony found that he was beginning to like soju almost as much as scotch. Almost.

"Have you decided when you'll go back to New York?" Helen asked casually between bites of tteokbokki and soondae. "Tomorrow is Christmas. I would have thought you might like to be home for the holidays."

"Trying to get rid of me already?" Tony poured himself another glass of soju. He tilted the bottle in her direction and she held her glass up with both hands for him to fill.

"Well you are a bit of a distraction," she admitted with a smile. "It's hard to get any work done while you're around."

Tony lifted a brow as he reached for his chopsticks. "Is that right?" He picked up a spicy rice cake. "I didn't think I was your type, Helen."

"You're not," Helen retorted before popping a piece of blood sausage into her mouth. "Unfortunately, some of my staff isn't impervious to your charms."

"We all have our crosses to bear."

"Not everyone chooses to face their troubles," she added pointedly. "Some people run away."

Tony knocked back his soju in one gulp. It was only a matter of time before his choices came back to bite him in the ass. He didn't expect his rude awakening to come from Helen though. So he wasn't surprised a week later when he was cornered by a frowning redhead during a party at WooBar.

"Did Helen call you?" he asked, speaking into his drink.

"No. Helen called Bruce who called Rhodey who called me," Pepper replied.

"So you flew all the way to Korea?"

"I was already in Japan taking care of something business with Stark-Fujikawa."

"Work over the holidays?"

"Someone has to keep your company afloat."

Tony nodded. "Better you than me. And it still beats what we did last year," he added as tried to drown the memory of her nearly plunging to her death with scotch.

Pepper sighed softly. "What are you doing Tony?"

"What does it look like? I'm standing in a bar in Seoul on New Year's Eve with my ex and the best thirty year old single malt scotch money can buy."

He lifted his glass to his lips but Pepper placed a hand over his and stopped him from drinking. "You disappeared for weeks without a word to anyone. People are worried about you, Tony."

Tony lowered his glass. "I know. I know. You. Rhodey. Bruce and Helen. Even Fury's panties are probably in a twist." He glanced around the room. "Assuming he doesn't have Romanoff tailing me right now." He turned his eyes back to Pepper. "What do you think? Does that bartender stink of S.H.I.E.L.D. to you?"

Pepper folded her arms. "How about Martha?" she challenged. "Remember her? Because she seemed pretty put out about you abandoning her in London."

"You spoke to Martha?"

"She was looking for you when she got back to Manhattan," Pepper informed him. "We had lunch."

"Wait. You went out together?" Tony frowned. "So what? Did the two of you compare notes or something?"

"Like I said…she was worried about you." Pepper took his glass from him and took a large gulp. "Apparently she wasn't fully aware of your history."

'Here it comes,' Tony thought with a heavy sigh. This was it, the conversation that was nearly a year in the making. "I never meant to hurt you, Pep. If anything…" He exhaled sharply. "I convinced myself that pushing you away was the best way to keep you safe."

"Is that what it was?" she asked skeptically. "Were you trying to keep me safe or yourself?" Tony turned his gaze towards the window, staring idly at the Han River. "Look at me." She put a firm hand on his face and guided his eyes back to hers. "Hurting people first because you're afraid they're going to leave you?" Pepper shook her head. "It's no way to live, Tony."

"I thought I was doing the right thing at the time," he insisted meekly. "But the truth…the truth is that I should have held you closer. When you walked out, I should have run after you."

Pepper smiled sadly. "I was hoping you would have."

Tony exhaled sharply again. "I was an idiot."

"Yes…you were," she agreed with a nod.

"I should learn from my mistakes."

"I hope you will." Pepper pulled her hand away from his face and passed his drink back to him. "So what are you going to do now?"

Tony shook his head. "I don't know if I can fix this."

"Well you at least owe it to yourselves to try," Pepper insisted. "Do you love her?"

"I…" Tony took a huge gulp of scotch as he contemplated the question and whether or not he was comfortable answering it for Pepper. "I could."

"Could?"

"It's complicated."

"So simplify it. Do you care about her?"

"Of course I do."

"Do you miss her when you're apart?"

Tony stared down into his drink. "So much it hurts," he confessed.

"Would you do anything to make her happy?"

"Yes."

"Then stop hurting her by shutting her out," Pepper insisted.

The crowd around them began to countdown to midnight in a mixture of Korean, English and other languages. "10…"

"I'm sorry, Pep," Tony said quickly, feeling to desperate to clear the air before the year ended.

"9…"

"So am I, Tony."

"8…"

Tony looked up at her. "I did love you."

"7…"

She nodded. "I know."

"6…"

"If I could take it all back..."

"5…"

Pepper shook her head. "We have to keep moving forward."

"4…"

"Forward," he repeated with a quick nod.

"3…"

"I hope you find what you're looking for."

"2…"

"You too."

"1…"

Pepper leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Happy New Year, Tony."

Tony slipped one arm around her waist and gave her a tight squeeze. "Happy New Year, Pep."

Pepper pulled away first. Tony watched as she walked away from him for the second time, though thankfully on better terms. Once she was out of sight, he turned his gaze back to the river over which fireworks were lighting up the night sky. He finished off his drink and made a silent vow to do better about not drinking so much. But that wasn't the only resolution he had for the New Year. Somehow. Someway. He was going to fix things with Martha.

Tony pulled his old cellphone and dialed Helen Cho's number. "Helen. Happy New Year," he greeted as he started walking towards the exit. "I need you to have someone pack up all of my stuff and ship it back to Manhattan. Yea, that's right. I'm going home. New year, new attitude. No more running away."


	19. Keeping It in the Family

Tony searched for the first flight that was headed back to New York. Thankfully, there was a nonstop one from Incheon to JFK. The bad news was that it didn't leave until the next morning. So he returned to his hotel suite and settled into bed with thoughts of what he'd say to Martha once they were reunited. The next morning, he made a few more calls as he made his way to the airport. One to Rhodey and one to Bruce as well as a quick thank you call to Pepper. He briefly entertained the idea of calling Martha, but he decided he needed to say everything face to face.

One fourteen hour flight later, Tony was back in Manhattan. He knew he probably should have returned to the Tower first, but he went directly to Martha's building instead. When he reached her door, he knocked gently before letting himself in with the key she had given him.

"Martha?" Tony called out. He crossed the threshold and moved past the tiny hallway between the front door and kitchenette that led to her bathroom. "Martha?" he repeated. He seemed like she wasn't home, but the lights and the TV were still on. So if she did leave, she must have been planning to come back soon.

Tony was in the middle of debating whether he should stay or go when he suddenly heard a feral screech coming from the direction of the front door followed by a burst of pain at the back of his head. He stumbled forward, but somehow managed to remain on his feet.

"Ah shit!" He grunted through the pain as he clutched his back of his head with both hands and turned to face his attacker. His vision was a little blurry due to the involuntary tears, but there was no question in his mind of the identity of the woman wielding the electric kettle. "Tish?"

"Who the bloody hell are you? Why do you know my name? And why the hell do you have a key to my sister's flat?" Martha's older sister demanded in rapid succession.

"Tony Stark. Martha told me. And she made me a copy," Tony answered, still rubbing where she had hit him.

"She _gave_ it to you?" Tish asked in disbelief with the kettle still held high defensively. "What the hell for?"

"It made things easier when I slept over," he explained.

Tish scoffed. "Now I know you're lying. As if my baby sister would be caught dead shagging some low budget Tony Stark wannabe," she protested.

"Low budget?" Tony stroked his cheek. His beard had gotten a bit out of control while he was in Seoul and he probably could stand to get a haircut as well. "I acknowledge that I've let myself go a little bit recently, but that's just hurtful." He moved over to the kitchenette and opened the freezer. The only thing of use he found inside was a bag of frozen berries so he held them up to the back of his head. "I thought you were supposed to be my fan," he grumbled as he took a seat on the couch. "I know it's called a crush but it doesn't mean you should literally try to bash my skull in."

Tish lowered the kettle a touch. "Are you really him?" she questioned skeptically. "Anthony Edward Stark born May 29, 1970?"

"So I'm gonna try not to be freaked out about how quickly you threw those stats out," Tony said. "And I'd offer to let you see my passport, but I'm reluctant to make any sudden movements while you're armed."

Tish took a few steps forward and stared at him with narrow eyes. She continued to inch towards him little by little until finally her eyes went wide and she dropped the kettle with a loud gasp. "Holy shit! You're Tony Stark!"

"Are you sure?" he asked sarcastically.

"Well it still doesn't explain what you're doing in Martha's flat," Tish challenged. She picked up the kettle from the floor and returned it to the kitchen counter before reaching beneath the sink and retrieving the first-aid kit. "What was that bit about sleeping over? I know you're not shagging her because she's not the casual sex type and I would've known if she was seeing someone new," she added as she pulling out an instant cold compress.

Tony already knew that Martha had never mentioned their arrangement to her mother, but now he knew she hadn't said anything to her sister as well. That was either a good thing or a bad thing. However, the fact that she hadn't ranted to Tish about his disappearing act in London gave him some hope. "She's been helping me with some problems," Tony told Tish vaguely, hoping she wouldn't press for too many details. "Some of which require long hours."

"Yea, she's good at that. Taking care of people," Tish commented as she walked over to the couch, shaking and crushing the cold compress before passing it to him. "But aren't you a bit old to need a minder?"

He pulled the bag of frozen berries away from his head and replaced it with the cold pack. "Probably, but in my defense I had a crappy childhood."

"Not a valid excuse, but whatever." Tish picked up her phone from the coffee table and sat down next to him. "Can I get a photo? I mean no one will ever believe I _actually_ met Tony Stark."

Tony smiled bitterly. "Not so low budget now, am I?"

"No, you still look bloody awful, but I look cute so I think that combined with your celebrity status will balance things out," Tish reasoned while lifting her phone into position to take a selfie.

"Reasonable assessment." Tony lowered the compress and leaned in close. "Rude…but reasonable."

"Say concussion!" Tish teased with a bright smile as she snapped the photo. She quickly checked the results. "Not bad," she assessed as she showed him. He knew he should have swung by the Tower to clean himself up. "The full beard is a bit Clooney, innit?"

Tony balked at the comparison. "He wishes."

Tish took a moment to post the photo to her social media account before putting her phone aside. "Sorry about the kettle."

"I'm just glad it was plastic and not stainless steel," he insisted while reapplying the cold pack.

Tish bit her bottom lip in a way that wasn't unlike Martha. "You're not going to sue, are you?"

"Nah. Nothing good would come from me making a big deal about this." Tony leaned back against the couch. "You work in public relations. You know how it is."

"How did you know I…" Tish paused midsentence. "Martha?"

Tony nodded. "She talks about you a lot."

Tish laughed softly. "Did she tell you that I hate my boss and would love a new job as well?"

"No, but I'll tell you what. You send me your resume. And I'll personally endorse you for a position in our PR department at Stark Industries."

Tish stared at him with wide eyes. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Oh my God that's amazing! Thank you!"

"I have my moments," he replied with a shrug. Tish pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. "What was that for?" he asked.

"You're my celebrity crush," Tish reminded him. "If all else fails with the job, then at least I can say that I've snogged Tony Stark."

"That was more of a peck than a kiss, but I suppose…"

"Alright," Tish retorted before cutting his words off by initiating a searing kiss to the lips.

Tony's first reaction was shock. He knew Tish was bold. He had gathered that much from listening to Martha's stories. Meeting the woman had only cemented that point, but he hadn't been prepared for just how audacious she could be. His second thought was purely observational. Her lips were full, soft, and flavored with tea. Not just any tea. Earl grey like Martha always drank.

Martha.

This was wrong. It wasn't Tish he wanted to kiss. He should push her away. And he would but…damn those lips were soft. It could have been that it had been far too long since he had been kissed. Or maybe it was that if he focused hard enough he could pretend her accent sounded like someone else's. Pretend that she _was_ someone else. It was terrible and depraved and more like some shadow of himself that he hadn't been in a long, long time. But he wasn't that man anymore.

Tish let out a satisfied murmur against his lips. Tony responded by moving his hand, which he was surprised to realize had ended up on her ass, to her hip and nudging her away gently. She blinked away a dazed expression before breaking into wide grin. "Wow."

"Yea…" Tony glanced down as he wiped her lip gloss away from his mouth. "That's what I'd call a kiss."

"I'd say," a third voice contributed.

Tish jumped at the sound of her younger sister's voice. "Martha! You're back."

Tony momentarily closed his eyes with a tiny groan. Way to make a good impression, you jackass.

"Look who came to see you," Tish continued. "You never told me you knew Tony blooming Stark."

Tony opened his eyes in time to see Martha's shocked expression shifting into something unreadable. "It turns out I don't know him all that well. Not nearly as well I thought I did, at least."

"Well enough," Tish retorted. "He had a bloody key."

"Yea, I'll explain that later, but can we have a minute alone, Tish?" Martha requested calmly.

Tish glanced back and forth between the two of them. "Yea, alright." She looked at Tony once more as she reached for her phone. "I was serious about that job."

Tony nodded, but kept his eyes on Martha. "I'll give Pepper your resume. Top of the pile."

"Brilliant!" Tish laughed to herself as she moved to the front door. "Tony blooming Stark! Leo is going to piss himself," he heard her say just before she disappeared out the door.

"So…" Tony began awkwardly. "I met your sister. Nice girl. We had a lovely chat."

"Did you now?" Martha bent over and picked up the frozen berries. "I wasn't aware you were fluent in tongues."

Tony winced. "Yea…I walked into that one. And I know this is bad, but I swear it's not what it looks like."

Martha paused with her hand on the freezer door. "So you _didn't_ just have your tongue down my sister's throat and your hand on her arse?"

Tony stood up. "Okay, I'll give you the hand, but technically _her_ tongue was down _my_ throat."

"That's your argument?"

"Not sure yet. Is it working?"

Martha exhaled sharply through her nose and tossed the berries back into the freezer. "What are you even doing here, Tony? Did you need something?"

"No, I just wanted to see you," Tony insisted as he slowly approached her. "I was hoping we could hangout and catch up. I have a lot I need to tell you."

"Yea? Well tonight is not a good night," she said in a voice that was uncharacteristically, yet understandably, bitter. "Tish is here until the weekend and my bed isn't big enough for three."

"You could always come to the Tower," he suggested.

"It really isn't a good time," Martha insisted.

"Is that the only reason?" Tony questioned. "I mean it has nothing to do with what you walked in on, right?"

"Contrary to what you seem to believe, my world doesn't _actually_ revolve around you. I just want to spend some time alone with my sister."

Tony arched a brow. "You're being surprisingly calm about this."

Martha shrugged. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"So you're not mad?" Tony asked skeptically.

"I don't really have a right to be, do I?"

"You say that, but you kinda sound like you're doing that thing where people pretend not to be mad, but then they make you pay for it in subtle ways. Or _not_ so subtle ways."

"We're not a couple, Tony. You can stick your tongue or any other parts wherever you like."

"What if I want to be?" Tony countered.

"What?"

"A couple."

Martha stared at him in disbelief. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"I know it's hard to tell with me sometimes. I have a tendency to deflect things with humor. It's an ongoing issue that I'm working on. Sort of. Not really."

Martha huffed, but it lacked the usual note of amusement. "You are absolutely unbelievable," she replied in a seething tone.

"Okay…the anger is less subtle now."

"I can't believe actually thought I was f…" She began to chastise herself, but broke off with a sharp breath and switched her focus to him. "First, you abandoned me in London…"

"Abandoning is a bit much. Granted, I should have communicated better, but I mean I paid the hotel bill and I did leave my plane behind to fly you back to New York. Do you know how long it's been since I've flown commercial?" He paused. "Actually…I'm not sure I've _ever_ flown commercial before now."

Martha wouldn't be deterred and she continued her tirade. "You didn't answer any of my calls…"

"I haven't been answering anyone's calls."

"And if all that isn't bad enough…you come into my home, snog my sister, and then…THEN have the _audacity_ to say you want to bloody _date_ me?"

"In my defense, the kissing wasn't part of the original plan." He paused again. "Well maybe it was, but with a different sister."

"Get out!" Martha demanded, shoving him towards the door and opening it for him.

"So…" Tony halted on the other side of the doorway. "Will I see you later then?"

"Don't bloody bother," Martha said before slamming the door in his face.

Tony stood on the other side of the door with the cold compress still in his hand. "Strike two," he muttered to himself as he turned towards the elevator. "Get your head in the game, Stark." He slammed the button with his free hand. "We gotta knock this next one out of the park."


	20. If I Could Change Your Mind

Tony made a conscious effort to give Martha the space she needed. He had already pissed her off with distance. He didn't want to make matters worse by suddenly being too clingy. Any attempts he made to win her favor would at least have to wait until the weekend when her sister returned to England.

In the meantime, Tony made good on his promise to submit Tish's resume to Pepper. He was pleasantly surprised to learn that she had the perfect credentials. She had earned a BA in media and communications from Goldsmiths University of London as well as a MA in public relations. And a position within the office of Prime Minister of the United Kingdom was definitely impressive too. Tony was willing to overlook the fact that said prime minister turned out to be a renegade Time Lord that only hired Tish to get to Martha and the Doctor. A job was still a job and at least he wouldn't be accused of simple nepotism.

With Tish squared away, that left Tony with time to think about Martha and how he could make amends. He had to play this right. He was already on thin ice. One false move and everything they built could crumble to pieces. So how could he show her how much she meant to him?

His first inclination was to get her a gift. Throwing money at his problems was yet another tendency Tony had inherited from Howard, whose parenting style typically involved showering his son with presents in lieu of genuine affection. But Martha had made it clear, on more than one occasion, that she couldn't be bought, which meant that he would have to think of something that held meaning.

What did he know about Martha that he could use to prove that he wasn't taking this situation lightly? What did she love? What meant the most to her? What was something that only he could give her? Something that would represent the, hopefully, unbroken bond they shared.

The answer came to him all of a sudden. He was surprised he hadn't thought of it straight away, but he knew it was something Martha would love. Now he just had to pull it off.

The plan took longer than expected. Tony wasn't aware there were so many hoops he would have to jump through to get her present. So a little over a week later, he arranged to have it delivered to Martha's apartment. He thought about bringing it to her himself. Part of him wanted to see the look on her face when she received it, but he thought it better to give her a wide berth. When Martha was ready, she'd come to him.

Tony was in his workroom when the long awaited moment came.

"Sir?" J.A.R.V.I.S. interrupted him in the middle of assembling his Mark XLIII prototype.

"Not now, J.A.R.V.I.S."

"You requested that I alert you if anyone attempts to activate their security clearance to the penthouse," the AI continued.

Tony lifted his head from his work. "And?"

"Dr. Jones is here."

Tony stood up from his workbench. Grabbing his empty coffee mug, he made his way upstairs under the pretense of a caffeine pick-me-up as opposed to the truth, which was that he was dying to see Martha again. He found her in the kitchen, standing next to the sink and filling a bowl with water. She set it on the ground next to a two month old Great Dane puppy that was solid black except for patches of white on its nose, chest and paws.

"I see you got your present," he said as he proceeded to refill his coffee mug.

Martha looked up from her crouched position. "You bought me a dog?" she asked, though the question somehow seemed like an accusation.

"Well I _wanted_ to get you a dragon," Tony replied casually.

Martha scoffed. "I know you're rich, but I doubt even you could swing that."

"Have you ever heard of _Smaug giganteus_?" he asked, turning to face her. "It's the scientific name for sungazers. They're also called giant dragon lizards and they're one of eight southern African lizards that make up the genus _Smaug_. I don't think I need to tell you what inspired that name. Anyway, their conservation status is vulnerable so I made a donation to the World Association of Zoos and Aquariums' sungazer conservation project in your name and got that little guy instead," he added with a nod towards the puppy. "I almost went with a cat because of the one you found in college, but let's face it…cats are assholes. Lovable? Sure, but definitely assholes and you've already got a lovable asshole in your life," he insisted gesturing to himself. "So I didn't think you really needed another one."

Martha exhaled sharply. "You can't buy somebody else a dog without their knowledge."

"It's definitely a complicated process," Tony agreed into his cup. Martha rolled her eyes. "What? You don't like him?"

"I do like him," Martha replied scratching the puppy between the ears.

"Good. His name is Bohr as in Niels, which is fitting because he was a great Dane too."

"Whether I like Bohr or not is beside the point," Martha continued. "You can't just force someone into being held responsible for another living creature."

"You wouldn't have to take care of him alone," Tony insisted. He set his coffee aside. "I was thinking of a shared custody arrangement with alternating weeks. Assuming, of course, that we resume our usual weekend arrangement. We'd need to work out the holiday details though."

"Oh _now_ you care about the details?" Martha asked in exasperation as she stood up straight. "Because it might have behooved you to note that the building I was living in had a strict no pet policy."

Tony ran a hand through his hair. "I can't help but notice the use of past tense just then."

"That's because one of my neighbors saw Bohr in the hallway and reported me to the landlord. I've been bloody evicted, you prat!"

"Okay…yeah…that's definitely on me," Tony said awkwardly.

Martha huffed, though it was a decidedly unamused sound. "You bloody think so?"

"I'm usually so detail oriented," he commented as he stroked his goatee. "There is a silver lining though. He's a little guy now, but Bohr is gonna get big quicker than Bruce Banner during a hissy fit. You need a larger place."

"I don't bloody need you buying me a blooming place to stay," Martha protested irritably.

"So I won't." Tony shrugged. "Stay here. Free of charge."

"What?" Martha's eyes went wide. "You want me to move in?"

"You've stayed here plenty of times already and I've got more than enough room. Plus, Bohr is just a baby." He knelt down to rub the dog's belly. "He needs to see his mommy and daddy getting along. Take it from me, childhood traumas stay with you for life."

Martha closed her eyes and shook her head. "You manipulative arsehole."

"I'll take the charge," Tony said. "I'm guilt tripping you. Plain and simple. But I also know you well enough to know that you have no problem walking out of here with Bohr right now and telling me to 'go screw myself' or some colorful British colloquial equivalent. And you'd be well within your rights if you do because…" He scoffed softly as he rose to his feet. "I'm a human disaster zone. I try to do the right thing, but I usually end up making things worse before they get better. And you deserve so much more than to be dragged back into the shit storm I call my life, but I guess I'm just selfish because I still want you around. I miss you, Doc. I need you in my life."

Martha opened her eyes. "Are you done?"

Tony sighed in defeat. "Yea."

"Good." Martha let out a sigh of her own. "Because I missed you as well."

The corner of Tony's mouth turned upward. "You did?"

"Oi, don't go getting a big head, tin man. I'm still _extremely_ cross with you." Martha folded her arms across her chest. "You kissed my bloody sister!"

"I still maintain that she kissed me first."

"That's what Tish said, but the fact remains that you kissed her back," Martha retorted fiercely. "And do I need to remind you about your hand being on her bum?"

"I was kind of hoping you wouldn't," Tony confessed with a wince.

"Well don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

"Look…I fucked up." Tony exhaled sharply and ran a rough hand through his hair. "There we were on the couch, talking about you, and suddenly Tish was kissing me. Before I knew it, all these feelings were bubbling to the surface. Then, in the latest in a long line of bad decisions, I kissed her back. But you gotta know, Martha, it may have been her lips on mine, but it was you that was on my mind the whole time," he insisted. "I've known for a while that you're more than just a friend to me, but in that moment…I was finally willing to admit to myself just how much more you were."

Martha raised a brow at his declaration. "So what you're saying is that you projected your feelings for me onto my sister's lips and arse?"

"Essentially," Tony answered. "But can we stop talking about her ass? Don't get me wrong. It's a perfectly nice ass. Maybe not as good as yours, but still as far as asses go it's a pretty great ass. I mean I don't know if it's the genes or what, but I'm honestly a bit reluctant to meet your mother at this point."

Martha looked skyward and took a cleansing breath. "Please stop talking."

"Good idea." Tony nodded quickly. "So…" he began a moment later in an attempt to broach the subject of living together carefully. "Will you move in with us?"

Martha was quiet for a long while before she spoke and the silence plagued Tony to his very core because he wasn't sure what to expect when she opened her mouth again. "Yes," she answered finally, easing his fears that he had lost her forever. "But only because it's such short notice that I doubt I could get a decent place. I need my own space though. We can't share a bed while I'm still sorting through my feelings for you."

Tony took a step in her direction. "So you _do_ have feelings for me?"

Martha pursed her lips. "You know, for a genius you certainly are slow on the uptake."

"Since when?"

"I don't know." Martha shrugged. "London? Maybe before, but there was definitely a spark that night."

"So you felt it too?"

"Kind of hard not to feel it. I guess your seduction plan worked."

"I wasn't _actively_ trying to seduce you," Tony replied. Martha huffed, this time sounding like she had so many times before. Tony couldn't help smiling. He had missed the sound. "Okay, so maybe I was trying to seduce you a little bit, but I didn't think anything would actually come of it. Mostly, I just wanted to make you happy after all the shit you went through with the Master coming back."

"You did make me happy, Tony," Martha said softly. "It was what I needed. _You_ were what I needed." She exhaled sharply. "Then I woke up and you were gone. No note. No call. Nothing. Do you have any idea of how it made me feel?" she asked, but her expression said it all. There was pain behind her eyes and he was the cause of it. "I was gutted and when I _finally_ saw you again you were all tangled up in my sister."

"I had a dream about you…about _us_. A damn good one," he explained, closing his eyes briefly to relive the fantasy. "It felt _so_ real." He opened his eyes as he ran his hand through his hair again. "But when I woke up…I realized it was just a dream and that nothing had changed. Except _everything_ had changed."

"And you didn't think I could handle that? After all we've been through already?" Martha demanded angrily. "You're one of my best friends. I've told you things I've never told _anyone_! I trusted you and I thought you trusted me as well."

Tony closed the gap between them while fighting the urge to touch her. "I _do_ trust you."

Martha let out a mirthless laugh. "But not with your heart apparently."

"I trust you with everything that I have," Tony insisted. "It's me that I don't trust. You joked before about breaking my heart, but if anyone was going to get hurt it was going to be you."

"Ugh, you absolute bellend!" she yelled as her right hand shot up.

Tony was sure that she was going to slap him and he braced himself for impact. He had been struck by many women over the years and his father even before that. More often than not, he felt as though he deserved it. Now especially.

But she didn't hit him.

Instead, Martha balled her hand into a fist and dropped it to her side. "I watched the world burn and die all around me and I survived. So the fact that you think my heart needs protection from _you_ is frankly pretty damn insulting."

Tony dropped his gaze. Somehow, he didn't feel like he deserved to look her in the eyes. Probably because he knew she was right. Just like Pepper had been right when they had a similar conversation so long ago. "I'm sorry."

"Damn right you are," Martha retorted. She reached out to lift his chin so she could look him in the eyes. "So you better rack that beautiful brain of yours to think of ways to make it up to me."

Tony stared at her in confusion. "What?"

"You heard me," Martha said quickly. "You love your grand gestures. Well I expect one. A damn good one. Preferably something that doesn't involve you snogging any more of my blood relations or doing something daft like getting me fired on top of rendering me homeless." She paused briefly. "And I want another date. A proper one this time."

Tony shook his head in disbelief. "I don't understand."

"It's your penitence for doubting me and for doubting yourself," Martha answered, moving her hand from his chin to his cheek. "You're a good man, Tony Stark. I just hope I live to see the day when you believe that as well."

"Martha…"

"I'm not letting you push me away again, alright?" She stroked his cheek. "Win or lose, I still care about you and I'm not going to abandon you. All I ask is that you don't ever lie to me and don't you dare try to spare my feelings again. Do you understand that?"

"Starting to," Tony replied.

"Good." Martha slipped her hand behind his neck and brought his head down so she could press a kiss to his forehead.

Tony glanced down into Martha's eyes as her fingertips stroked the nape of his neck. "Yea." He rested his forehead against hers like he did when they were dancing in his hotel. Their noses to brush against one another and he felt a strong desire to kiss her.

"I need to go back and pack up my flat."

"Do you want me to…?"

"No. There's not that much I want to take. But I'll be back later and then we can talk some more, yea?" Tony nodded slowly. "Now go grab a mop or something," she advised as she pulled back and she turned towards the door. "Our son just pissed on the floor."


	21. Game Changer

Tony found a mop and took care of the little present his son had left him on the kitchen floor. Bohr was looking a little less great in his eyes at the moment, but he couldn't be too angry. He was a cute puppy and he had helped bring Martha back into Tony's life, albeit by way of eviction. But that, unfortunately, was all on Tony.

He thought about having J.A.R.V.I.S. run a search on potential listings that fit Martha's needs and price range. A place in a safe neighborhood. Pet friendly. Close to UNIT headquarters but also not too far from the Tower. Lots of food options in the area. Tony didn't make a move just yet though.

It was mostly because he didn't want to be accused of overstepping his boundaries, but there was also a not so tiny part of him that selfishly wanted her to stay with him for as long as possible. Forever might suit his needs. But it wasn't just about him. There were two people involved here.

Well…two people and an accident prone Great Dane.

Tony was broken from his thoughts by the sound of Bohr knocking his bowl of water over. He sighed with all the melancholy one might expected from an overwhelmed new father. "We're gonna have a serious conversation about discipline as soon as your mother gets home, young man. Just you wait." Bohr tilted his head in response. "Don't give me that innocent look," Tony retorted. "I invented that look."

After he cleaned up the water and refilled the bowl, Tony lifted Bohr into his arms and dried off his paws while mentally constructing a list of puppy proofing tasks he'd have to undertake sooner rather than later. Once his son's feet were dry, Tony carried him off to the guest room to get it ready for Martha's return.

Tony sat on the edge of the bed with a wistful sigh. The memories of the nights he shared with Martha in that room during their week together came flooding back to him. "What do you think?" he asked Bohr. "Can I make her happy without screwing this up again?" Bohr licked his hand. "I'm gonna take that as a yes." He scratched him between the ears. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, buddy."

Tony put Bohr down on the ground with a stern warning against peeing on the wool carpeting and then set to work removing all of the personal items from the room. He wanted Martha to have a blank canvas to start from so she could really make the space her own. Once he was done, he placed an order for some takeout and returned downstairs to wait for Martha and their dinner.

Martha arrived just after the food did. She said she didn't have much that she wanted to take away from her apartment, but Tony was still surprised by how little she had brought back with her. The only luggage she had was her overnight bag, a military issued tactical backpack and one large suitcase.

"Is that everything?" Tony asked.

"Yep." Martha glanced down at her things. "That's it."

Tony frowned. "How long have you been living in New York again?"

Martha paused to think. "Going on five years now."

Tony blinked away his shock. "Five years and that's all you've got?" he marveled. "I need more than that for a three hour tour."

Martha shrugged and lugged her stuff further inside. "I don't know. I reckon a bit of it is military inspired. Working with UNIT for so long has conditioned me to taking only what I can carry."

Tony understood the logic. He supposed people like Rhodey and Steve were probably the same way, but it still seemed like a strange way to live. Then again, his whole life had been big houses and boarding schools. He'd be hard pressed to fit his entire t-shirt collection into three bags let alone his whole life.

"I cleared the crap out of the guest room so you can make it your own. I left the bed linens though. They're 1500 count Egyptian cotton so you should sleep well," he informed her as his thoughts drifted back to the nights they shared in that bed. "We can go shopping if you're missing anything though. Do you need a satin pillowcase? That's good for your hair right?" Martha lifted a brow. "What? You told me read about black haircare on my own. Anyway, if you want to change the paint or whatever, we can call my decorator in the morning."

"I'm sure the room is fine as it is," Martha replied.

"I'm not aiming for fine. This is your home too, Martha," Tony reminded her.

"For now."

"It could be forever, if you want," Tony offered.

Martha met his eyes and Tony instantly felt something pass between them. She glanced away while tucking her hair behind her ear. "I should go unpack."

"Later," Tony insisted. He took her bags from her and set them aside. "First, we eat." He reached for her hand. Martha hesitated for a moment before slipping her hand into his and allowing him to lead her off towards the kitchen. "I hope you like Korean," Tony said as they sat at the table to eat. "Try the spicy rice cakes with cheese. I know it sounds weird but it's actually amazing. I've been on a tteokbokki kick lately. I practically lived off the stuff in Seoul."

"You were in Korea?" Martha questioned, sounding slightly wounded as she picked up a rice cake with her chopsticks. "So much for going together."

"I still think we should take that trip," Tony replied apologetically. "You'll love it there and Helen is excited to meet you."

"You told her about me?"

"Is that so surprising?"

"One would assume that the whole purpose of fleeing the country was so that you could avoid thoughts of me," Martha reasoned.

"Well that would be impossible because you're always in my thoughts," Tony said before popping a rice cake into his mouth.

His words seemed to catch her off guard, but unless it was just wishful thinking on his part, she did look a bit please by his revelation. "You've been on my mind as well," she admitted. "Usually at the worst possible times."

"I have?" Tony leaned forward in his seat. "What are we talking about here? Late at night? In the shower?" he joked.

"I would have thought you'd consider those the most opportune times," she countered brazenly. "Handy even."

Tony lifted a brow at her sudden boldness. "I don't know if you're being perverted on purpose or if that was just an accident." Martha sucked on the tips of her chopsticks and shrugged. "Well I guess the moratorium on flirting is officially dead," he said.

"Don't look at me. You're the one who started it with your sordid dreams."

"Hey!" Tony began defensively. "There was nothing sordid about my dream." Martha pursed her lips in disbelief. "Scout's honor." He switched his chopsticks to his left hand and gave a three-finger salute with his right. "I mean it may have been slightly… _steamy_ …but it wasn't at all dirty."

"If you say so," Martha retorted, still sounding less than convinced.

"I do say," he insisted. "We didn't even have sex."

"So what _did_ we do?" she challenged.

"Do you really wanna know?"

Martha set her chopsticks aside and listened attentively.

"Alright." Tony stood up and retrieved a chilled bottle of soju and two glasses. Returning to the table, he filled a glass for each of them and then proceeded to relay his dream to Martha in graphic detail. By the time he was done, the bottle was empty and Martha looked a bit flustered, to Tony's satisfaction.

"So every hand touch was like a kiss?" Martha questioned and Tony nodded his confirmation. "We would have had like a thousand kisses by now." She glanced down at their hands, just inches apart on the table. "Even that first day at the bar."

"Probably never look at high fives the same way again, huh?" Tony joked.

Martha drained the last bit of soju from her glass. "Low fives either."

"If that's what you're in the mood for then…'I'll make my heaven in a lady's lap,'" he quoted with a smirk.

Martha rolled her eyes and resumed eating. "Are you trying to seduce me using Shakespeare outside your dreams now as well?"

"Maybe." He drummed his fingertips against the tabletop while subtly moving his hand a bit closer to hers. "Is it working?"

"You do realize that the man himself couldn't seduce me with his words, yea?"

"I figure I have better odds," Tony reasoned.

Martha lifted a brow. "Is that so?"

"Yea." He nodded. "I mean for starters, I'm not secretly married."

"Are you even the marrying sort?" she challenged.

"I could be…if the right person came along," he answered with a fleeting glance in her direction before continuing. "And I don't have any hidden kids."

"That you know of."

"Hey! I practice safe sex."

Martha shrugged. "Accidents happen."

Tony pointed his chopsticks at her. "First off, bite your tongue. Secondly, stop getting me off topic." She gestured for him to proceed. "Where was I?"

"No wives and, _presumably_ , no kids."

"Thanks. I also have excellent dental hygiene."

"You do have a winning smile," Martha acknowledged while flashing her own.

"But the main thing is…I'm not just paying lip service," Tony added as he stared her in the eyes. "I'm not saying a bunch of pretty words because they sound nice or because I think you'd like them." He covered her hand with his. "Everything I've said is because I meant it."

Martha quickly looked away. "I should go unpack," she said quietly, pulling her hand away from his and rising from the table.

"Save it until morning," Tony suggested as he stood up as well.

Martha sighed. "I won't be able to sleep in there with things out of order."

"You can stay with me, you know. The bed is too big without you." He reached for her hand again. "Will you stay?"

Martha raised her hand, but she froze with it in midair. Her fingers curled inward towards her palm in hesitation. Her gaze swept downward over him and she exhaled slowly. "I can't." She lifted her eyes to meet his while shaking her head slowly. "As much as I want to be close with you again…it's too soon for us to go there."

"We said no sex," he reminded her. "That rule can still apply. We don't have to do anything you don't want to do. We can just talk like old times."

"We did say that," she acknowledged with a nod. "But the rules have changed, Tony. Surely you see that."

Tony sighed softly. He missed having Martha in his bed and in his arms. Still, he understood her hesitance. Things between them had definitely changed. In his mind, it was all for the better, but that didn't remove the fact that being that close physically would never be the same again. "Yea," he admitted in defeat, dropping his hand to his side. "You're right. It's too soon."

"I'll see you in morning, yea?"

Tony nodded and Martha smiled warmly at him. "If you need anything, I'll be in my lab," he informed her before moving to walk away. Suddenly, Martha grabbed his sleeve and Tony stopped walking to watch as she slowly slipped her hand into his. Her fingertips caressed his palm before their fingers laced together and she pressed her palm against his. He glanced up and she was staring at him while nibbling on her bottom lip. 'A goodnight kiss,' he mused silently as he squeezed her hand back. "Parting is such sweet sorrow," he told her with a voice full of longing.

"That I shall say goodnight til it be morrow," Martha said, finishing the line as she pulled her hand away and headed off towards her room with Bohr following at her heels.


	22. Best Laid Plans

The next few weeks were strange in the sense that things with Martha were finally going back to the way they used to be while also being completely different at the same time. In the mornings, they still had breakfast, but now it was a part of their daily routine as opposed to their weekly Sunday ritual. Afterwards, sometimes they would hangout and other times Martha had to rush off to work. Tony realized that he had never seen her in her UNIT uniform before now which was a shame because she was a knockout all suited up in black military fatigues.

They still had their late night conversations as well, but their pillow talk was transported to the kitchen most nights. Sometimes they would relax on the sofa in the media room with Bohr curled up between them. Once or twice, Martha sought Tony out in his lab.

On one such occasion, Bruce had come by after dinner to finalize some details on the Mark XLIV design's augmentations before they entered the fabrication phase. Tony had also wanted to run some new numbers by him concerning their Ultron conundrum. Alas, Bruce seemed to be more interested in discussing the metal dalekanium and its ability to attract gamma radiation with Martha over a cup of tea.

"I think Bruce might be more than a little bit in love with you now," Tony teased as he walked her back to her room. "You blinded him with science."

Martha leaned against her door. "You're not feeling jealous again are you?"

"Not particularly. I figure if you were going to ditch me for an Avenger, Bruce would be fourth on the totem pole with only Barton ranking lower because honestly…who would _willingly_ date Clint?"

Martha let out an amused huff. "I'm assuming Steve Rogers is number one on that?"

"Unfortunately."

"So who's number two?"

"Thor." Tony shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. "People seem to like that whole golden god thing he's got going on."

"Tish certainly does," Martha agreed. "But I'd probably drop him down to fourth, with Bruce in the middle and Agent Romanoff in second."

Tony lifted a brow. "Natasha? _Really_?"

Martha shrugged. "I've always had a soft spot for gingers."

Tony pointed a finger at her. "See this is why I don't like you hanging out with Pepper," he complained playfully.

"Worried I'd leave you for her?" Martha asked with a laugh.

" _I_ would leave me for Pepper," Tony countered.

Martha nodded. "Fair point. And at least she's taken me out on _actual_ lunch dates," she pointed out.

"I took you out for food last week," Tony protested.

Martha scoffed. "We were grocery shopping."

"Yea and I let you push the cart," he added. "And what about that long romantic walk in the park afterwards?"

"You mean when we took Bohr out for a wee?" She folded her arms across her chest. "I thought you said you wanted to date me. Is this your normal courting ritual or do you just not know how to woo someone without flashing your wealth?"

"I _do_ want to date you," Tony insisted. "But things have been in flux lately with all the changes and I wanted to give you an adjustment period."

"What if I told you I've adjusted enough?" Martha countered coyly.

Tony glanced at his watch. "Then I'd ask you if you knew what day it was."

"It's probably after midnight, so it's Friday."

"It's Valentine's Day." Tony took her hand, allowing his thumb to caress her knuckles. "So what do you say? Will you be my valentine?"

Martha made a show of considering it. "I'll sleep on it." She gave his hand a quick squeeze before slipping inside her room.

"Sweet dreams," Tony called out just before she closed the door. He took a deep breath and slipped his outstretched hand back into his pocket as he made his way back to his workroom. "J.A.R.V.I.S., bring up the blueprints for that special project I've been working on. We're in for a long night."

Tony had been waiting for the right moment to put this particular plan into action. When Christmas hadn't played out as expected, he considered holding off until Martha's birthday, but now seemed like as good of time as any.

By the time the sun came up, Tony was running on caffeine and adrenaline. He did a dry run just before dawn then spent the last hour or so tweaking the processes. Once he was thoroughly satisfied, he made his way up to Martha's room and knocked on her door. Bohr answered with a bark and a few minutes later Martha opened the door wearing her paisley headscarf and a long grey t-shirt.

Martha rubbed her eyes sleepily. "If you're trying to make a good impression, you'll find that I'm more sympathetic when I'm well rested."

"I've got a surprise for you." Tony took her hand without waiting for a proper reaction. Martha's only response was an exasperated sigh as she toddled along behind him. Tony waited until they reached the kitchen, then turned to face her and walked the rest of the way backwards so he wouldn't miss her reaction.

Martha's gaze swept over the strange assemblage of gadgets and connections as she wiped the sleep out of her eyes again. She was silent for a couple more seconds before emitting a loud gasp and covered her mouth with both hands. "Is that what I think that is?"

Tony nodded. "You very own breakfast machine," he informed her with a tired smile as he admired his handiwork. "Needless to say, I've made some necessary adjustments to Pee-wee's original design, but it's fully functional." He turned back towards Martha. "All you have to do is—"

Tony's words and thoughts were cut off by the sensational of Martha pulling him into a fierce kiss. It only took a fraction of a second before he was fully alert and returning the kiss with fervor. Her lips were soft and Tony loved the way she seemingly melted into his embrace. They stumbled around blindly until her back hit the refrigerator and Tony placed a hand on the door to steady himself. "Now _that_ was a kiss."

"Better than Tish?" she questioned with a pant.

"Who?" Tony replied without missing a beat.

Martha beamed. "Good answer."

"So will you be my valentine?" Tony pressed.

"I'll be your everything," Martha offered.

Tony caressed her cheek. "You already are." This time, he initiated the kiss while gripping her hip with his free hand.

When they finally extracted themselves from one another, Martha looked up at him expectantly. "Where do we go from here?"

The bedroom was Tony's first thought, but he could probably make do with the kitchen table. "Breakfast," he answered chastely.

Tony demonstrated how the contraption worked and Martha seemed even more excited than before, if that was possible. Their meal ended with a heartfelt thank you from Martha and an impromptu tableside make out session that was only interrupted by Martha's need to shower before work. Tony suggested that they save time by sharing. Martha responded with a coy promise of next time. Tony carried that mental image with him through the rest of the day and when he later unceremoniously fell asleep at his work table his dreams officially entered sordid territory.

After his nap, Tony woke up and, regrettably, took a shower alone. Dressed comfortably for a night in, he gathered some food and set up the media room in preparation of his big date with Martha. When she got home from work, Martha greeted him with a tight hug and a tender kiss. The hand caresses had been nice, but nothing was quite as sweet as kissing Martha for real.

"What's all this?" she asked, taking in her surroundings.

"It's movie night. I got all of your favorite snacks and we're gonna watch one of your favorite films."

"Harry Potter?"

"Never gonna happen," Tony retorted with a scoff. "Now go get comfortable. I'll cue up the movie."

Martha left and returned a short time later wearing a pair of cotton pajama pants with a matching camisole and a fluffy cardigan to keep her warm. She quickly tucked into their meal as Tony started _The Princess Bride_ , which just so happened to be her favorite movie of all time.

The two of them watched movie in relative silence except for when Martha quoted her favorite scenes aloud as they played out on the screen. Tony found it to be a rather endearing habit and it was about halfway through the film that he realized he had been paying more attention to Martha's reactions than the movie itself.

When the credit rolled, Tony switched off the screen and Martha turned to him with a warm smile. "Today has been absolutely perfect." She pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Thank you."

"You're worth it," Tony assured her. He leaned in for another kiss and Martha met the gestured eagerly.

They started off slowly and gently until the intensity and desire for one another grew to a fever pitch. Tony pulled her body flush against his and Martha responded by leaning back against the sofa, so that he was effectively lying on top of her. The kissing continued for a while, during which time Tony wondered if they should slow down or speed up. Martha pulled away briefly to slip her cardigan off before guiding Tony's lips back to hers. Tony took the furtherance of action as encouragement and seized the opportunity to allow his hands to veer away from their previous position at her hips.

Tony had barely managed to feel the silkiness of her skin beneath her camisole when Martha let out a startled gasp. "What?" he asked nervously, jerking his hands away from her and searching her eyes for answers. "Did I…what did I do wrong?"

Martha shook her head. "Nothing. Your hands are just cold."

"Poor circulation," Tony replied. "It hasn't been right since the arc reactor."

"Then I suppose we'll just have to warm them up," Martha retorted. She took both his hands and positioned them on her bare stomach with only a tiny shudder at the contact. "You're the scientist. How do we generate heat?"

Tony lowered his forehead to hers. They noses brushed against each other's as his hands ran up and down her sides. "Friction," he answered in a low voice.

Martha laughed softly and kissed him again. "Do you have any protection?"

"What do you need?" Tony questioned while moving to nuzzle her neck. "Goggles? Latex gloves?" He lifted his head with a lascivious grin. "A lab coat?"

Martha pursed her lips. "Don't be cheeky."

"Don't ask for miracles," he shot back playfully. "I've got some upstairs," he added answering her previous question. "Want me to go get one?"

Martha shrugged. "Or we could just go to bed," she suggested. Tony stared into her eyes and searched for any indications of resistance or uncertainty. Seemingly discerning what he was after, Martha cupped Tony's face between her palms and met his stare head-on, "Take me to bed," she demanded resolutely.

Tony smirked. "Yes ma'am." He stole a quick kiss before crawling off the sofa, pulling Martha up to her feet and hoisting her into his arms. Martha wrapped her legs around his waist as they slowly made their way to his bedroom.

Once they reached the bed, they tumbled onto it in a tangle of limbs. Tony grasped blindly for the box of condoms he kept in his nightstand drawer. Just as he finally secured the treasure he was seeking, Martha let out another startled gasp. "Are my hands still cold?"

"No." Martha shook her head frantically and gestured downward. "I felt something wet on my foot."

Tony pulled back and glanced over his shoulder. Bohr was near the foot of the bed, standing on twos and licking Martha's bare feet. "It's just Bohr," he informed Martha as he turned to resume kissing her.

Martha pushed him away. "Stop."

Tony stared at her in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"We can't have sex now."

"Why?"

She peeked around him at Bohr. "What if he sees us?"

"Seriously?"

"Yes!" Martha cringed. "I can't with him in the room. It's just too weird."

Tony scoffed. "Martha, he's a dog. He doesn't know what we're doing."

"He might," she protested.

"Unless you wanna roll over and assume a different position that's more common to his species, I seriously doubt it," Tony said. "I'm definitely not opposed to that idea by the way."

Martha huffed. "I'm going to try very hard to forget that you just said that."

Tony sighed heavily as he shifted his weight off of her. "So what do you want me to do? Do you want me to get rid of him?"

"No." Martha sat up in bed. "He's probably lonely," she reasoned. "He wants to sleep with me."

"Yea? Well so do I," Tony mumbled petulantly. He dropped back against his pillow with another heavy sigh.

Martha gave his leg a consolatory squeeze. "I think the moment has passed, love."

Tony pouted. "Just like that?"

Martha shrugged. "Welcome to parenthood," she joked. "Our son comes first."

Tony stared at the ceiling. "So what? We're just never gonna have any time alone? If he so much as whines, then that's it? We drop everything?" He stole a peek at her. "What if he kills our sex life before it even begins?"

Martha actually had the nerve to laugh at his question, much to Tony's annoyance. "Well perhaps you should have thought about that before you tried to trap me with a baby," she teased.

Tony groaned. "I'm being serious."

Martha laughed harder. "So am I." She leaned over Tony's legs and pulled Bohr into bed. The puppy squeezed himself between them, proving himself to be a block in both the literal and the proverbial sense. Bohr dropped his head on Tony's chest and Martha curled herself around his body while reaching for Tony's hand. "Are you disappointed?"

Tony laced his fingers through hers and exhaled through his nose. "I told you sex wasn't necessary."

"Just because you don't need it doesn't mean you don't want it," she reasoned.

Tony met her gaze. "I'm a little disappointed," he admitted.

"So am I." Martha gave his hand a squeeze. "Do you mind if I stay here tonight?"

Tony lifted their hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of hers. "You can stay here forever."

Martha chuckled softly. "I guess it'll just be hand holding and high fives for the moment, yea?"

Tony scoffed. "I'd rather a low five."

"Feel free to nip off and sort yourself."

"Who said I was going to be on the receiving end?" he countered shamelessly.

Martha bit back a smile. "Well we can both give and receive in equal measure when the time is right," she insisted. "I mean we've only been dating for one bloody day! There's no rush to consummate our relationship. We still have a lot to learn about each other. Like how you apparently have a lab coat fetish."

"Hey, it's not a fetish!" Tony retorted defensively. "It's a deep appreciation for laboratory safety."

Martha scoffed playfully. "You bloody liar!"

"Like you don't have any fantasies," he accused.

"Maybe one or two."

"Don't hold out on me, Doc. Spill it." Tony gestured for her to continue. "Come on. On the count of three, I want you to say your biggest fantasy. 1…2…3…"

"Your biggest fantasy."

Tony scoffed. "Smartass."

"I thought you liked that about me."

"The smarts or the ass?"

Martha paused to think. "Both?"

"Guilty."

"There is one thing," Martha confessed. She leaned over Bohr and whispered into Tony's ear.

Tony suddenly looked intrigued. "I can work with that. Think we can incorporate the lab coat into that scenario?" Martha gave a noncommittal shrug. "You're right. Baby steps."

"Speaking of babies," Martha whispered with a nod towards Bohr, who was sound asleep between them.

"I guess we should follow his lead, hmm?" Martha leaned over and gave him a soft kiss, but Tony slipped a hand behind her head and deepened it. "Good night," he said when they broke for air.

Martha smiled against his lips before pulling back and settling on her side of the bed. "Night," she answered.

Both of them closed their eyes and their fingers remained entwined as they drifted to sleep with Bohr snoring softly between them.


	23. Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

After their misfire on Valentine's Day, Tony and Martha made a vow not to rush the progress of their relationship and to let things evolve at a natural pace. So while they didn't have sex for the weeks that followed, despite another close call on her birthday, Tony was happy that they had at least resumed sharing a bed.

It wasn't every single day that they slept together and their evenings didn't always start off that way. On many nights, they'd part ways after dinner with Tony retreating to his lab. After putting in a few hours, he'd stumble into Martha's bed instead of making the trek to his own room. Martha would welcome Tony with open arms and tender kisses while the rapidly growing Bohr would use him as a pillow, except for the nights when Martha lay in the middle with her boys surrounding her on both sides. Tony's favorite nights, however, were the times when Martha came home late and snuck into bed with him. One such occasion occurred in late March.

Martha had been called back to London on UNIT business and, although she was only away for a week, it was the longest they had been separated since she moved in in January. Tony was in bed alone when she came to him. Bohr had taken to sleeping in Martha's bed while she was away. Tony imagined that Bohr was picking up on her lingering scent on the linens, but he didn't need to hug pillows to keep him going because every bit of Martha's essence was imprinted on Tony's brain.

Martha, on the other hand, mirrored Bohr in the sense that she had stolen a few of Tony's t-shirts to make the journey with her to London. She even went as far as spritzing some of his favorite cologne onto the fabric to preserve the scent. That was probably why he smelled her coming before he saw her face.

When Tony opened his eyes, Martha was standing at the edge of the bed wearing only his Black Sabbath t-shirt, the hem of which she was fiddling with. "Come here," Tony requested softly as he reached for her hand and pulled her towards him.

Martha placed her free hand on his shoulder and slipped a leg over both of his so that she was on his lap. Tony put his hands behind her knees and pulled her towards him so that their bodies were flush against one another. "Hey," she said in barely a whisper, as she moved her hand from his shoulder to stroke his cheek.

Tony's hands moved upwards over her thighs and gripped her hips to hold her in place. "Hey," he replied. "Welcome home."

Martha let out a breathy chuckle which Tony echoed. She lifted her other hand and cupped his face between her palms. They sat there in quiet contentment holding each other's gaze for a long while, neither of them bothering to say a word. She traced tiny circles on his skin with her thumbs. Tony, in turn, caressed curve of her hips with the tips of his fingers. He lowered his head to rest against her chest and closed his eyes. Underneath the haze of his cologne, he detected her sweet scent and inhaled it deeply. Her fingers worked their way into his hair and his hands disappeared beneath her shirt.

"Is this real?" Tony muttered against her shirt.

"Hmm?" she responded softly. "What do you mean?"

Tony raised his head. "Is this really happening?"

Martha stared at him in confusion. "Of course it is."

"So I'm not asleep right now?"

"You think this is a dream?"

Tony shook his head. "No…a nightmare." He tightened his grip on her to convince himself that she was real. "I'm afraid I'll wake up again and none of this will be real."

"It's real," Martha promised. "And I'll prove it." She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.

Tony returned the kiss hungrily before pulling back suddenly. "Where's Bohr?"

"He's still asleep in my bed. I didn't want to wake him up so I changed in the bathroom downstairs."

Tony glanced past Martha, half expecting to see the Great Dane bounding towards them to greet his mother's return. Instead, he discovered that Martha had closed the door behind her when she entered the room. "He won't be able to get in."

"Yea, well, that's more or less the point." She chuckled softly and stole quick kiss. "I thought we should have a quiet reunion of our own tonight."

"No kids allowed?"

Martha smirked. "Absolutely not."

"I had a dream about you while you were gone," Tony confessed.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

"I'd rather show you," he insisted as he moved his hands further up her sides.

"Show me."

"I might need my shirt back first."

Martha lifted her arms above her head, allowing Tony to peel her shirt off. He dropped it to the ground and exhaled slowly as he looked her over. She wasn't wearing a bra because she never wore one to bed, but that wasn't what caught his attention.

"Did you always have that tattoo?" he asked as his fingertips gazed the tiny flower inked on her skin to the right of her navel.

"Well I wasn't born with it," she quipped. "But I have had it for as long as you've known me." Tony knew all about the butterfly on her arm, but it was somehow surprising and thrilling to think that her body still held so many secrets from him. He was eager to learn them all.

Tony's eyes flicked up to meet hers and Martha was looking back at him expectantly. He reached over his shoulders with both hands and pulled his shirt off, tossing it somewhere on the floor. Martha stared at the spot on his chest where the arc reactor had once been with all the intensity one might expected from a physician. They were both well acquainted with each other's emotional scars. The physical ones, however, were new territory.

"Does it hurt?" Martha questioned.

"No, it's just sensitive sometimes."

Her fingertips brushed against his skin in a gentle, almost reverent, manner. Without warning, she ducked her head downward and pressed a string of light kisses over his scar. Tony closed his eyes at the contact and exhaled slowly. After a while, he felt her flatten her palm against his chest. "Your heart is beating fast," she observed.

Tony opened his eyes and smiled lazily. "Good thing I know an excellent doctor."

"Mine's racing as well," Martha admitted as she nibbled her bottom lip. Tony placed his hand over her heart causing her to shudder. He had been in bed for a while so they weren't as cold as they probably would have been otherwise, which meant she was trembling for a different reason. "We should grab a…"

"Yea," Tony agreed. He slipped an arm around her waist to hold her in place while he reached into his nightstand. Once he pulled his hand back, Martha gave him a slow lingering kiss then rose off of him long enough for them to deal with the remainder of their clothing.

When all barriers had been discarded, except for the one previously encased in foil, Martha settled back onto his lap and slipped her arms around his neck. "Does this live up to your dream?"

He ran his hands up and down her back slowly. "The real thing is _so_ much better." Martha laughed and their lips met once more.

Tony wasn't a timid lover by any stretch of the imagination, but that didn't mean he was above relinquishing control. In that moment, he was perfectly content to submit to Martha's whims completely. In a way, she had set the pace for their entire relationship. So why would their first time be any different?

He didn't give up control easily. Long before he donned his first Iron Man armor, he had been building up a proverbial suit of armor for most of his life. It wasn't completely impenetrable. Rhodey had been one of the first to seep through. Even a few of the woman Tony met over the years tempted him to let down his walls at least temporarily. Meredith. Sunset. Janice. Whitney. Bethany. Indries. Rumiko. With Pepper, he was prepared to cast it off completely. But when he was with Martha, he realized that he didn't need it all.

Tony was impulsive and, more often than not, reckless. Martha's calm and methodical nature brought him much needed balance. If anything, he wanted to build a wall up around her and protect her from the external threats as well as all of his internal failures. Better yet, he could build a safe haven for the two of them and Bohr to guard them from the world outside the Tower. It wasn't realistic though and Martha would have hated it anyway.

Life was about living. And while there were still plenty of times he felt broken, he couldn't let the darkness defeat him. His life was still worth living. Staring up at Martha as they made love was definitely proof of that.

Love. There was that word again.

Tony closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath once their bodies stilled. Martha was still on top of him, her face buried in the crook of his neck and her breath coming in short bursts. A small part of him was still afraid of this being a dream, but how could it be fake when his entire body was on fire? Every nerve felt alive and every cell was singing. He only wondered if she felt it too.

Eventually, their breathing leveled out and Martha rolled off of him. Tony didn't waste any time curling himself around her and hugging her back to his chest. He had slept too many nights without her in his arms and he wasn't ready to be denied her warmth again. He closed his eyes content to fall asleep that way until Martha shifted her position. The movement was minimal at best, but the friction it caused was enough to incite a reaction. Before long, their bodies were moving in sync once more.

After that second encounter, Tony was in desperate need of a breather and drifted off to sleep almost immediately. The sun was up the next time he opened his eyes, but Martha was thankfully still in his arms. Tony lowered his head to kiss her bare shoulder, spurring her to stir.

"Mmm…" Martha mewled softly. "Is it time for round three?"

"Round three?" Tony repeated with his lips still brushing against her skin.

"You know…repeating the experiment to test the chemistry? Seeing if we come up with the same results," she joked. "I reckon we ought to be scientifically sound about this."

Tony let out a breathy chuckle. "That's funny because here I was thinking that I might have found something that finally made me believe in magic."

Martha dropped her head back against his shoulder. "Bloody hell!" she replied with a playful groan. "Do you actually hear yourself when you talk?"

"Public opinion is that I love the sound of my own voice," Tony retorted as he pressed a kiss to her neck.

Martha moaned softly and reached back to stroke the nape of his neck. "Now _that_ I can believe."

"Admit it…you love it," he growled against her throat.

Martha let out one of her signature amused huffs. "I love a lot of things about you, but I'm not sure if that's one of them."

Tony let her words sink in for a moment before speaking again. "So you only love parts of me?"

Martha pulled away from him long enough to roll herself onto her back so that they were face to face. "The whole is greater than the sum of its parts," she answered while reaching to cup his cheek.

"You choose now to talk about synergy?"

Martha exhaled sharply, but her expression was one of total adoration. "I'm saying that if the tin man needs a heart…then he can have mine," she answered. "Because I love you."

Tony's eyes locked onto hers. "Even though I'm a hot mess?"

"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind," Martha said, quoting Shakespeare. "And you blow my mind, Tony Stark." She gave him a quick kiss. "Besides, I'm a bit of a mess myself."

"Debatable. You're definitely hot though." She began to laugh, but he cut her off with a searing kiss.

"So…" Martha panted when they finally broke for air. "Three for science, yea?"

"Absolutely," he agreed between kisses. "We should test another variable though."

"And what do you suggest? New position? Different location? I still owe you a shower and there was talk of a lab coat."

"Maybe." Tony's lips found hers again. "How about one with the scarf? Not gonna lie, the scarf kinda does it for me."

"How about I use it to gag you?" she teased.

"Kinky. Are we going to need safe words?" he questioned. "If so, mine is dial-up because…"

"Nothing is a bigger turnoff than a slow internet connection?" she guessed. Tony pulled back to look her in the eyes. He suddenly realized how closely their conversation mirrored the dream he had in London. "What?" Martha asked with a frown.

"Nothing," Tony replied. "Just…I love how well you know me," he confessed. "And…"

Martha quirked a brow. "And?"

"And…" Tony hesitated for a brief moment. "I love you too."

Martha smiled brightly at his confession. "Seeing is believing, tin man."

Tony grinned. "Then I better get busy showing you," he suggested as he rolled on top of her. The next few days were devoted to intensive scientific research with only minimal interference for food and bathroom breaks, for both them and Bohr.

Late one Friday morning, Tony woke up to sloppy kisses and kibble breath as a now fifty pound Bohr stood above him. "Bohr. Stop it. Bohr!" Tony groaned softly, extracted himself from his son's loving embrace and pushed himself out of bed. "Yea. Yea. I love you too, buddy. C'mon. Let's go find your mother."

Bohr galloped out of the bedroom ahead of him as Tony hung behind to put on his pants and grab his previously abandoned t-shirt from the floor. Tony entered the kitchen pulling said t-shirt over his head and found Martha leaning against the kitchen counter, freshly showered with a cup of tea in her hand.

"You showered without me?" Tony questioned.

Martha chuckled softly. "If memory serves, the last time we shared there wasn't much cleaning involved."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Tony reached the counter and pulled Martha into a quick kiss. She tasted like Earl Grey and toothpaste. "Why are you dressed?" he added once they pulled apart and he took a good look at her. "Are you going somewhere?"

"I was thinking that maybe we should get out for a bit," Martha reasoned with a shrug. "We've been holed up in here for nearly a week with no communication with the outside world."

Tony released her completely and turned to fill Bohr's food bowl. "Again…you say that like it's a bad thing."

Martha huffed softly. "I do have a job, Tony. And family. And friends," she reminded him. "As much as I've enjoyed our little sexual holiday, we can't put off the real world forever."

"Are you sure? Why not?" Tony pressed. "The real world highly overrated and there's still a few more rooms left that we could christen."

"We need to get outside," she insisted. "Breath fresh air."

Tony scoffed. "In New York?"

Martha rolled her eyes. "Go wash up and get dressed."

"Can't it wait until after breakfast?" he questioned petulantly.

"We're going _out_ to breakfast."

Tony sighed in defeat. "Alright. You win, but I need caffeine first."

"Do you want some tea?" she asked as she retrieved his House Stark mug.

Tony took the mug from her with a tiny frown. "Can I make a confession?"

"Always."

"So I've been thinking, we've got a good thing going here, right?"

Martha nodded. "Right."

"And it's not good to start a relationship off on lies, right?"

Martha curiously lifted a brow. "Yes."

"Well the thing is…" Tony sucked in a breath through his teeth. "I don't actually like tea. I only drink it because it sorta became our thing, but I kinda hate. I mean why would I want leaf water when I can have coffee?"

"You mean roasted bean broth?" Martha countered with another huff.

"That bean broth is delicious," Tony said as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "I need some stronger than tea to get me going."

"That's because you've only had that weak swill you Americans like to pass for tea in this country," Martha retorted quickly. "What you need is a proper builder's to sort you out."

Tony laughed into his cup. "I love it when you're overly English."

Martha set her mug down and moved closer to him. "That was nearly a perfect sentence."

Tony paused to think. "I overly love you, English…when…it…are."

"Smartarse," Martha retorted before kissing him passionately. "Now go get dressed. I'm going to check my messages."

Tony stole another kiss and took his coffee with him back upstairs. He washed up quickly and pulled on some clothes before returning to the kitchen. When he found her again, Martha was sitting at the table gaping at her cellphone with her hand covering her mouth. "Bad news?" he asked. Martha glanced up at him and he could see in her eyes that bad probably didn't even begin to cover it. She thrust her phone in his direction. Tony took it from her and stared at the screen in disbelief. "J.A.R.V.I.S., give me the news on the big screen. Now."

Tony moved over to the screen and watched in a stunned silence. The sight of smoke pouring from the Triskelion and destruction littering the Potomac. The words they were saying about the recent events. Assassination of Nick Fury. Captain America a fugitive. The fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. None of it made sense.

"How could this happen?" Martha asked at his side.

"I don't know." Tony shook his head slowly. "But you were right about one thing."

Martha slipped her hand into his. "What's that?"

Tony turned towards her with a deep frown as he squeezed her hand. "It's time to stop putting off the real world."


	24. Along Came a Spider

Tony continued staring at the screen. Just like with the events in Greenwich, none of what he was witnessing in Washington D.C. felt real. The only tether he had to reality was the vice grip he had on Martha's hand.

"How did this happen?" she asked quietly.

Tony shook his head. "I don't know."

"What are you going to do?"

"I…I don't…uh…I…mm…I don't know." He grasped for words as well as his next breath. "But I know should be there. I need to get to D.C." Tony felt her other hand curl around his wrist and he turned to see Martha checking her watch.

"Your pulse is racing," she informed him with a tiny frown. "I think you should sit down for a bit."

Tony huffed. "I'm fine."

"What did you just say about lying?" Martha protested as she pulled him towards the table.

Tony allowed her to guide him into a chair before speaking again. "I need to do something."

Martha nodded in agreement. "Yes and I have no doubt that you will, but it won't be at the expense of your health and wellbeing." She kneeled down in front of him, resting her forearms on his knees. "Now breathe and take a beat to analyze the situation in a calm and logical manner."

Tony took a deep breath and tried to settle the flurry of activity in his head. "J.A.R.V.I.S., what's the latest on S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"All of their files have been leaked online, sir."

Tony had already been privy to most of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s secrets ever since he hacked into the Tri-carrier, but he never bothered to go through their files with a fine tooth comb because he had bigger concerns in the past like stopping Loki and the Mandarin. Now, however, it seemed like an excellent course of action. "Download everything you can find and cross check them against the ones from the Tri-carrier. Let me know if you find any discrepancies."

"Right away, sir."

Martha stroked his thigh from her position still crouched in front of him. "Do you still want to go to Washington?"

Tony glanced down into her eyes. "Well I can't just sit here twiddling my thumbs." He exhaled sharply. "You know I didn't have the best relationship with my old man, for various reasons, but S.H.I.E.L.D. is part of his legacy. And it might sound stupid, but I don't know…" He shrugged. "For whatever reason, I feel obligated to figure out what the hell went wrong."

"It's understandable," Martha reasoned. "But what about your mates? You don't think they were caught in the middle of all that do you?"

"You heard them. Cap was labeled a fugitive. That has to be connected to the fallout with S.H.I.E.L.D. and Nick Fury's…" Tony faltered on the word 'death.' In a lot of ways, Tony's relationship with Nick was nearly as complicated as his relationship with Howard. He didn't always like him, but he did respect him for the most part, even if he didn't show it. The idea that Nick had been gunned down when Tony wasn't looking was inconceivable. It must have been some type of trick. It _had_ to be.

Tony needed information from ground zero, but his instincts told him that Steve was probably incommunicado, which meant that he'd should to go with his first choice. "J.A.R.V.I.S., while you're at it, I need you to initiate the Little Miss Muffet protocol," he requested.

Martha lifted a brow. "Little Miss Muffet?"

Tony nodded. "I need consult with a spider."

It may have seemed strange given how they first met, but in some ways, Natasha was the Avenger he trusted most of all. She was impartial, she didn't sugarcoat things and she wasn't afraid of getting her hands dirty. Tony could appreciate that. Unfortunately, she wasn't the type of person who could easily be reached by a simple telephone call, especially at times like this. So not long after the Battle of New York, they established other avenues of communication.

"Ah," Martha responded with an air of understanding. "So does that mean that you're officially going back into the avenging business?"

Tony took one of her hands into his. "Is that a deal breaker?"

Martha smiled warmly. "My boyfriend is a _genuine_ superhero. What could possibly be bad about that?"

Tony wasn't sure what pleased him more, her high opinion of him or hearing her refer to him as her boyfriend. "My life is dangerous," he reminded her. "So far it's all been mostly hypothetical with talk of the past and rebuilding my suits. But now the threat is real. Like _Bad Boys 2_ real."

Martha let out a breathy chuckle. "I understand the risks, love."

"Understanding and undergoing are two completely different things," Tony pointed out.

"I reckon this is the juncture where I should remind you of what it is I do for a living," she countered. "Danger is a regular part of my life."

Tony sighed heavily and ran his thumb over her knuckles. "I just don't want anything to happen to you because of me."

"Some things in life are beyond our control," she responded with a casual shrug. "That being said…you can keep me safe and the rest of the world too while you're at it. Be a hero." She rose up from her knees to give him a kiss. "And maybe you'll even get the girl at the end of the day."

"Maybe?" Tony questioned, pulling her onto his lap.

Martha slipped an arm around his shoulders. "I figure I ought to keep my options open since the other Avengers will probably be showing up now and then."

"Still have your heart set on Cap?"

"I'm not certain it's my heart that's interested," she joked.

"Yea? Well he can't have your heart or any other parts," Tony retorted fiercely as he pulled her closer.

Martha wrapped her other arm around him and hugged him tightly. "My, aren't we possessive."

"I know a good thing when I see it."

"And am I a good thing?"

" _We're_ a good thing," he answered. "But you, honey, are a _great_ thing."

Martha huffed. "Such a smooth talker," she teased before kissing him tenderly. "You've got work to do."

Tony sighed heavily. "Yea."

"Do you want me to make myself scarce?"

"Only once the eagle has landed," he quipped. "But no." Tony shook his head. "Hang around." He drummed his fingers against her thigh idly. "I'm dealing with a lot of unknowns right now. So I kinda need…I mean I like having…"

"I won't leave your sight," she promised sympathetically. "Just let me ring a few people and if you're still hungry, I could throw something together really quickly."

"I don't have much of an appetite," he confessed.

"You still need to eat a bit of something," she scolded gently despite the hard stare she was giving him.

"Alright," he conceded with a quiet sigh. "Whatever you say goes, Doc."

Martha pinched his cheek. "And don't you forget it."

"Sir?" J.A.R.V.I.S. interrupted.

"What is it J.A.R.V.I.S.?"

"You've received contact from Agent Romanoff."

Tony met Martha's eyes. "I need to take this."

She nodded and stood up from his lap. "Handle your business and I'll take care of the rest."

"Can I get a little sugar for the road?" he asked gesturing to his lips.

Martha chuckled as she leaned forward and pressed a quick peck at the corner of his mouth.

"Is that all heroes are worth these days?" Tony questioned with a slight pout.

"You're worth a thousand more," Martha assured him. "But only the first one is free," she added with a wink.

Tony waited until Martha had picked up her cellphone and walked away before he took a deep breath and stood up from the table. He headed down to the workroom, allowing J.A.R.V.I.S. to patch Natasha through upon his arrival. While he waited for her to speak, he picked up the Rubik's cube and passed it back and forth between his hands.

"Stark?" Natasha voice called out to him.

"Hey Red, what's new?"

"Same old same old," she replied with her usual air of neutrality.

"Not to alarm you, but I think you might have a bit of a pollution problem there in D.C. I've been watching the news and the state of the Potomac is a disaster."

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

"In all seriousness, what the hell is going on?" he asked, finally cutting to the chase. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is gone, Cap's a fugitive and this thing about Fury…"

"I can't tell you over the phone."

"It's a secure line," Tony assured her.

"Not secure enough."

"If you want some face time, all you have to do is ask."

"Does your girlfriend know you flirt so much?"

"You know Pepper and I broke up a year ago," Tony retorted.

"And _you_ know I wasn't talking about Pepper."

Tony frowned on his end of the line. "Are you ever gonna stop spying on me?"

"Not if you don't stop making it so easy," she shot back.

"So where are we going to do this?" Tony questioned, getting them back on topic.

"Give me a day or two. I'll contact you with a location."

"You know the drill."

"Stay safe," Natasha told him.

"You too, Red."

"Oh…and tell Martha I said 'hello.'"

Tony scoffed softly. "Stalker," he added quickly before she disconnected.

The next few days were tense, to say the least, as Tony gleaned whatever information he could from various news sources. He had taken to employing the grounding techniques that Martha taught him on his own and she had even gifted him with a mini Rubik's cube that he could carry around in his pocket. Of course it was the doctor herself that brought him the most peace, which was why he brought her and Bohr along to meet with Natasha.

When the three of them arrived at their prearranged rendezvous point in Central Park, they found Natasha sitting on a park bench. She was impeccably dressed and reading a battered copy of _The Spy Who Came in from the Cold_. By all appearances, she was just a regular woman enjoying a regular day in the park. But Tony knew Natasha well enough to know that nothing was left to chance and everything she did was deliberate.

Natasha glanced up from her book momentarily as she lazily turned the page. "Generally speaking, secret meetings are meant to be kept secret."

"So that wasn't Barton I spotted near the zoo entrance?" Tony challenged.

Natasha shrugged. "It could have been. He likes animals and I'm not my partner's keeper." She glanced in Martha's direction. "But I suppose I let it slide. She passed our security clearance anyway."

Martha looked startled. "You ran a background check on me?"

"Standard procedure."

"The only liars S.H.I.E.L.D. likes are the ones on the payroll," Tony told Martha. "Speaking of which, it sounds like you might be in need of new employment."

Natasha closed her book and rested it on her lap with her hands folded on top of it. "Are you offering?"

"Not a chance, _Natalie_." Tony took a seat next to her. "What the hell happened in Washington?"

"Hydra," she answered simply. "It seems as though they've been destroying us from the inside since your old man's day."

Tony's brows shot up. "And no one noticed?"

"Fury did."

"Is that why…" Martha began but quickly stopped herself with an uneasy glance between the two of them as if she was unsure if she was allowed to join their conversation.

Natasha sighed in exasperation. "Doesn't matter. S.H.I.E.L.D. as we know it is dead anyway."

"And Fury?" Tony pressed. "Is he really…"

"Officially."

"And unofficially?"

Natasha gave a noncommittal shrug and Tony decided to take that as confirmation of Fury's survival. "Fury, you wily son of a bitch," he responded with a sigh of relief. "What about Cap?"

"On the mend," Natasha answered.

"He was hurt?" Martha asked. The shock was evident in her voice though Tony could tell her concern was more about her doctorly need to take care of everyone rather than a result of her admitted crush on Steve.

Natasha nodded. "He took a pretty bad beating."

"He'll be fine," Tony insisted tightly. His words were for Martha's benefit as well as his own. "He's the toughest old man I know."

Martha looked less than convinced but she bobbed her head once and turned her eyes to Natasha. "What about Hydra? With S.H.I.E.L.D. in ruins, who's going to root them out of hiding?"

"Well they're not exactly hiding anymore, are they?" Natasha pointed out with a quiet scoff.

"Yea and neither should we," Tony replied defiantly. It was something he had been thinking about for a while. All that was left was to make it official. He glanced at Martha and she smiled encouragingly. "You and Barton track Thor down and tell him we're getting the band back together," he told Natasha, turning his attention back to her. "I'll work on Bruce. As soon as Cap is out of the hospital, the Avengers are gonna assemble."


	25. Fear and Faith

Tony stared at his completed Mark XLIII armor with mixture of anticipation and apprehension. Ever since the Battle on the Norco and the destruction of his suits, he had known that this time would come. That was why he had started to rebuild in the first place. But now that the moment had arrived, the internal conflict growing inside of him had reached a fevered pitch.

"Second thoughts?" Martha asked, coming up behind him. She leaned against the railing in his workroom and watched him intently.

"Second. Third. Fourteenth." He exhaled sharply through his nose as he turned to face her. "I'm not new to this, but I can't help feeling like I'm out of my depth."

"You're afraid." It was a statement rather than a question and a truthful one at that.

"Kinda ridiculous, huh?" Tony scoffed softly and reached into his pocket to check that his Rubik's cube was still there. "Imagine Tony Stark being scared of anything."

"There's nothing wrong with being scared, love," Martha assured him in a tender voice as she stepped further into the lab. "You may be Iron Man, but are you still just a man. Being scared is just part of being human. It's how we deal with the fear that counts."

Tony walked over to her, meeting her halfway. "I don't suppose taking an extended vacation is a viable option, is it?"

Martha smiled warmly at him. "I'm afraid not, but you already knew that," she answered as she lifted a hand to caress his cheek. Tony closed his eyes at the contact and leaned into her palm. "But the good news is that you don't have to go it alone. You have your team and you have me."

Tony opened his eyes to find her brown ones staring at him. "You really should consider going into motivational speaking."

Martha huffed. "I'm not telling you anything you don't already know. These sorts of things just sound better when they come from a different source."

"Well you're a pretty great source," Tony retorted. He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. "Probably the best source," he added as he nuzzled her neck.

"What are you doing?" Martha moaned softly. "Don't you have more pressing matters to deal with rather than trying to get a leg over?"

"This _is_ a pressing issue," Tony insisted as he shifted their positions so that her body was pressed flush against his to further illustrate his point.

Martha let out a breath chuckle. "Cheeky!"

Tony stopped kissing her long enough for Martha to relax with her head resting against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and buried his face in her hair. There was something he needed to say so he took a few moments to choose his words. "Pep and I used to have this thing we did," he began but stopped suddenly. "Not that I'm comparing you to Pepper," he added for clarification. "It's just in case...you know...if things were to take a turn..."

"I refuse to accept that," Martha cut in defiantly. She lifted her head so she could look him in the eyes. "You better come home to me, tin man."

Tony smiled weakly. "Always," he vowed before giving her temple a kiss.

Martha remained in his arms for a long time afterwards and eventually they made their way back up to their bedroom. Tony promised to come back to her in one piece, but on the inside he knew that he couldn't guarantee such a thing. Anything could happen to prevent him from keeping his promise. Not just the mission itself either. He could step outside of the Tower and get into an accident like his parents. Or even worse, something could happen to her while he was gone. So despite her assertion and his promise, Tony silently said his goodbyes to her and Bohr just in case. He told her repeatedly that he loved her and spent the better part of the evening showing her just how much he meant it.

When the time came, Tony left with the other Avengers to dismantle what was left of Hydra's bases. The nerves returned during the flight over the Atlantic. Tony supposed that was a typical reaction. He reckoned it was a bit like driving a car again after being in a bad accident.

Tony tucked himself into a corner with his Rubik's cube while the others went through their usual pre-mission rituals. Natasha checked her weapons while Clint put the plane into cruise control long enough to preen over his bow. Steve went over the battle plans with Thor, who would likely end up just following his instincts in the heat of battle. And Bruce kept to himself, mediating or perhaps praying to someone or something out there in the universe that the mission could go off without unleashing the beast.

Being Iron Man was a bit like riding a bike. Once the suit was on, Tony's instincts naturally kicked in and, as Martha reminded him, his team had his back. One mission quickly turned into two and then three and four and so on. Before he realized it, Tony had been back in the habit for a full year.

The last battle in a long fought war against Hydra came in late April as the team infiltrated a Hydra research base in Sokovia. Maria Hill had fed them information that flagged the base as the secret location where high ranking Hydra operative Wolfgang von Strucker was conducting his illegal experimentation on human subjects. It was also where they finally managed to find Loki's scepter, which had been missing in action since the Battle of New York.

All in all, the mission was a successful end to a long lasting campaign. It wasn't the smoothest of victories though. Strucker wasn't alone, not that they expected him to be. They hadn't counted on two of his enhanced subjects to be running point though. Steve had a brief run in with the girl and Clint took a bad hit off the boy. Bruce didn't have any encounters, but he was always a little rattled any time the mission called for a code green.

As for Tony, he found himself face to face with his greatest fear when he discovered a Leviathan carcass and Chitauri armor in an underground bunker beneath the base. Without warning, Tony felt himself being pulled into a waking nightmare where he stood over the corpses of his teammates as the Chitauri prepared for an even bigger attack than the initial one they had planned for Manhattan. Somehow, he brought himself back to reality long enough to secure the scepter and rejoin his team aboard the quinjet.

Once they got back to the Tower, Clint's injuries took precedence. Tony called Helen in from Seoul to see to him. He was sure that Martha could have been of great help, but while the Avengers were battling Hydra in Sokovia, she had been summoned to London on UNIT business. "Tell Clint he's in my thoughts," Martha told Tony over the phone. "And don't worry. I'll be home in time for your big do."

"I'm not worried, Doc."

"I reckon not. You lot defeated Hydra after all. Seems like you'll have to find something new to occupy you time," she teased.

Tony's thoughts flashed to the nightmare he had during the mission. Steve's dying words echoed in his head. _'You could have saved us. Why didn't you do more?'_ It was true. There was more he could do. More he _should_ do. And the answer to resurrecting the previously abandoned Ultron problem might have fallen into his lap. He and Bruce had been unable to figure out the missing piece on their own, but upon inspecting the scepter, they were able to discover a net of neurons that could be configured into an artificial intelligence they could use finish the program.

"I might have an idea or two."

For three days, Tony and Bruce toiled to no avail. All attempts at integration failed and with Thor planning to return the scepter to Asgard after the party, they were officially out of time. Feeling defeated, Tony retreated to his bedroom to get dressed for the party. He gave Bohr a scratch between the ears before disappearing into his the bathroom for a much needed shower.

When Tony emerged, he found Martha in the process of getting dressed. "When did you get here?" he asked.

"About an hour ago," she guessed. "I came straight from the airport, but I just wanted to check in with Clint before I came up to get dressed. Speaking of which, I'm surprised you're not dressed already."

Tony secured his towel around his waist as he approached her. "I was just working on some last minute stuff in the lab."

"Does that brain of yours ever stop?" Martha teased as she leaned in for a kiss.

Tony clung to her lips for a long moment before pulling back. "As a doctor, I expect you to know that when the brain stops the problems start."

"Smartarse."

"Guilty." He stole another quick kiss before disappearing into his closet to get dressed.

"I saw Helen before I came up. Is she staying for the party?"

"Yep." He called out to her.

"Good. We didn't get much time to chat the last time. I'm still keen to see that Cradle of hers in action. Preferably without any of you lot getting injured though."

"Clint's gonna be fine physically. It's the personality that's incurable."

Martha chuckled softly. "You know, I've grown to be rather fond of Clint since meeting him and the rest," she confessed.

Tony popped his head out the closet door to look at her. "If you rank me below Barton, that's a deal breaker," he warned.

"You're still my number one," she assured him.

"Good," Tony retorted as he retreated back into the closet.

"What about Pepper?" Martha continued. "Is she still out of town?"

"Yea, but your sister will be here tonight," Tony reminded her.

"Of course she will," Martha retorted. "Tish never misses a party. Especially if it's one she helped plan."

After Tony had passed Tish's resume along to Pepper, it didn't take long for the elder Jones sister to be offered a position within Stark industries. She had relocated to New York last spring and Martha was appreciative to have family so nearby. Pepper was also thrilled because Tish really was good at her job. So good that Maria and the Avengers had made use of her services on occasion, like for that night's party.

"Rhodey will be thrilled," Tony informed Martha as he exited the closet half dressed. His shirt was half buttoned and he was carrying a suit coat and a vest, both of which he promptly discarded on the bed before holding up two ties for Martha's approval.

"Oh?" Martha questioned with a raised brow while giving the ties a once over. "Does he fancy her?" She selected the darker colored one on the right.

"There's definitely something going on there," Tony commented. He draped his tie around his neck and dropped the other on the bed before doing up his buttons up the rest of the way. "Whenever she's around him it's like I suddenly cease to exist. Do you have any idea what that does to my ego?"

Martha chuckled softly as she tied his tie for him. "You're such a delicate little flower," she teased.

"I really am," Tony agreed with smirk. "One of those really annoying ones with thorns that require constant watering and pruning."

"Well my little rosebud, in my sister's defense, she's always been a flirt and Tish does love a man in uniform. Maybe Rhodey just wanted to bask in the pleasure of her company."

Tony shrugged. "Who knows? But if he plays his cards right, he might just sweep Tish off her feet and he and I can be brothers for real."

"Rhodey and Tish would definitely make for an interesting match," Martha agreed as she smoothed down his lapels. "But for the two of you to become brothers officially, I think you might need to consider that there's an important step you're missing."

"What?" Tony feigned offense. "You don't think she'd say yes to a marriage proposal from him?"

"I'm not sure if Tish would say yes to a marriage proposal from _anyone_."

"Rhodey isn't just anyone," Tony shot back, now sounding genuinely offended on behalf of his best friend. "Hell I'd marry him if he would stop playing hard to get. Granted, I probably wouldn't make the most ideal Air Force husband and they're more than likely still pissed about that whole armored suit situation, but I know my honey bear could smooth that one out."

Martha huffed softly. "Are you done waxing bromantic?"

"For now."

"Just so you know…I wasn't calling Rhodey's worthiness into question. I wasn't even talking about him or my sister at all, in fact. I just wanted to point out that this grand scheme of yours is operating under the assumption that by marrying Tish Rhodey would magically become your brother."

Tony nodded. "Kinda how the whole brother-in-law thing works isn't it?"

"Yes, except for one very important detail. You and I aren't married."

Tony scoffed dismissively. "That's a technicality."

Martha scoffed right back at him. "It's a blooming big technicality."

"You wanna get married? Alright. Let's do it," Tony said quickly. "Let's get married. How about tonight? It's already a party. It'll just be one more thing to celebrate. Do you have a white dress?"

Martha rolled her eyes. "Tony..."

"I wonder if Cap is able to legally marry us or does that require a different type of captain," he thought out loud. "Aren't there usually ships involved? Hmm. You know what? Maybe Rhodey would be a better choice. I'd rather have him as my best man but..."

"Oi," Martha cut in as she covered his mouth with her hand. "What makes you think I even want to marry you in the first place?" she challenged.

The question itself drew Tony up short, but the playfulness of her expression allowed him to relax. He curled his fingers around her wrist and pulled her hand away from his lips. "So you like living in sin then, do you?" Tony retorted. "Because wasn't that the main reason you said you were reluctant to introduce me to your mom?"

Martha scoffed softly. "No, I said it was _one_ of the reasons. Believe me, there are plenty of other issues about our situation that my mum might take issue with."

"Such as?"

"The age difference, for starters, and the fact that you're closer in age to her than you are to me." Tony winced. "Yea and she wouldn't exactly be keen about the danger in your life either," she added. "She seems to think that I'm drawn to reckless men." Tony lifted a brow in askance. "No comment," Martha answered cagily as she pulled away to finish getting ready for the party.

Martha's mom may have been onto something about her taste in men. Tony was definitely reckless. Despite of all his planning, so was Steve, on whom Martha still had a tiny crush. And if her stories about the Doctor were any indication, it was definitely a recurring trend. But it wasn't as if she was one of those cape chasers that hung around the Tower looking for a thrill. If anything, Tony was certain that it wasn't his destructive nature that attracted Martha to him. The dark part of his mind still questioned what it was that kept her around.

"So why are you still with me?" he asked before he could stop himself.

Martha was checking her reflection in the mirror, but turned to face him at the question. "Relationships are about choices. I'm here with you because you wanted me around and I've chosen to comply because I love you and I'd rather live my life with you than without you. Simple as."

"Well I appreciate your compliance," Tony said and then waited for a brief moment before bringing the conversation back around to the previous topic. "So you wanna make an honest man of me or not?"

"Why buy the cow when the milk is free?" she joked, returning her gaze to the mirror.

Tony moved to stand behind her. He looked her reflection in the eyes through the mirror. "You wouldn't just be buying the cow. You'd be buying the whole damn dairy and all its subsidiaries."

"I don't need the bloody dairy or any the rest of it," Martha shot back fiercely. She exhaled quietly and turned to face him again. "The cow is enough," she insisted as she fiddled with his tie. "Even if he doesn't believe it."

Tony stared at her in awe and shook his head slowly. "I don't deserve you."

"Damn right you don't," Martha agreed so quickly that her answer left him feeling a bit stunned. "And do you know why?" Tony could think of a couple of reasons but she continued speaking before he could offer any. "You don't deserve me because people aren't bloody rewards that you earn for good behavior," she told him seriously. "Which is a good thing for you because your behavior borders on reprehensible at times."

"So you _do_ have a thing for bad boys," he accused.

"Who doesn't like a bad boy with a heart of gold," she retorted. "Or gold titanium alloy as it were."

Tony cracked a smile. "You're cute, you know that?"

Martha nodded. "I have the mug to prove it."

"How's this for proof?" Tony asked before pulling her into a lingering kiss.

Martha exhaled slowly when they broke for air. "Feeling reassured yet?" she questioned as she stroked his nape.

"If I say no will you kiss me again?"

"Not if we plan on making it to this party on time."

"I don't really see the problem," Tony replied, pulling Martha flush against him. "I like to make an entrance anyway."

Martha laughed. "I'm really not trying to milk the cow right now," she protested halfheartedly.

"There's a mental image," Tony said as he nuzzled her neck. "Is it such a bad idea? I mean milk does a body good, right?"

"Jesus," Martha responded with a sound that was partially a moan but mostly an exasperated sigh.

"Are we switching from cows to religious metaphors now?" Tony reached behind her back and drew the zipper of her dress down slowly. "Because I'm not particularly devout about anything, but I wouldn't mind worshipping you like a goddess."

"We don't have time for worship."

"I can be quick."

"Is that how you think a goddess is meant to be worshipped?" Martha scoffed and pulled away from him fully. "You really aren't religious." She turned her back to him. "Could you do me up?"

Tony sighed softly and zipped her dress up. "You're killing me."

"Look at it this way," Martha began as she turned to face him once more. "After the party, you can worship me properly."

"And will you answer that question?"

"You didn't actually _ask_ me a question," she pointed out with a grin.

"Will you…"

Martha cut him off with a finger to his lips. "I expect that to be done properly as well."

Tony took her by the hand and kissed her palm. "I hope you know I'm operating on faith right now." He stepped away and retrieved his vest from the bed, slipping it on. "That's never been my strong suit."

"I think you have more faith than you give yourself credit for," Martha insisted. She picked up his suit coat and eased it onto his shoulders. "Your devotion is appreciated though and as proof of my benevolence..." She leaned in close to him and whispered in his ear.

Tony let out a breathy chuckle. "You might make a religious man out of me yet."

Martha laughed and took him by the hand. "Come on. Your guests are waiting."


	26. Good Intentions

The evening started off about as one would expect it to go during such a gathering. Saving the world may have been old hat to the Avengers, but when it came to dealing with the public, Tony was the expert. He had a long history of generating publicity of both the good and bad variety.

As it turned out, Martha was pretty good at it too. Ever since they moved in together, Martha had become a bit of a fixture in the local media. Of course, Tony already knew firsthand how alluring the doctor could be. People flocked to her like moths to a flame and he enjoyed watching her work.

After making his own rounds, Tony managed to steal Martha away from her adoring fans for a bit of face time. "It's not too late to turn this party into an impromptu wedding," he informed her.

Martha chuckled softly. "I thought we put that idea to rest."

"Temporarily shelved," he replied. "But after I saw how in love with you everyone was, the insecurity resurfaced and I felt the need to stake my claim," he said, only half joking.

Martha slipped a hand behind his neck and brought him down to her level, pressing her forehead against his. "There's no one in this room who I wanna be with more than you."

"Even Cap?"

She tilted her head to one side, feigning ignorance. "Who?"

Tony gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "Good answer."

Martha flashed him a bright smile. "I'm gonna go find Tish," she said just before disappearing into the crowd.

Left to his own devices, Tony made his way over to the bar. In his continued effort to curb his drinking, he only had a beer instead of his usual scotch. He was halfway through the bottle when Rhodey sidled up next to him.

Rhodey settled onto a stool with his back to the bar. "Hey."

"Hey yourself," Tony answered between sips.

"Seems like your big night is a big success," he said as he looked around the room.

"What about yours?" Tony asked, turning the face the same direction as his best friend.

Rhodey lifted a brow. "Mine?"

"You and Tish."

"Still trying to set me up with Martha's sister?"

"Still acting like you don't _want_ to be set up with Martha's sister?"

"I told you before that I'm capable of finding my own dates."

"You sure didn't have any trouble finding her in the crowd," Tony teased. He had followed Rhodey's line of sight to Tish, who was currently engaged in a game of pool with Steve and his friend, Sam Wilson, while Martha watched. "I'd strike while the iron is hot if I were you," Tony said. "I don't think Cap could seal the deal with Tish, but that Sam guy is a wildcard."

Rhodey rolled his eyes and took a sip from his own beer. "Speaking of sealing the deal, is that ring still burning a hole in your pocket?"

Tony stroked his right thigh to check that his mother's ring was, in fact, still there. "I'd put it on her finger right this second if I could, but I know that isn't what she wants. I have to do it the right way." He looked at Rhodey again. "I'm planning a quick trip to London to see her parents. I could put in a good word for you while I'm there, if you're interested."

Rhodey laughed dismissively. "I think I'd be better off winning them over on my own merit."

"Probably," Tony agreed. "But you more or less confirmed that you're into Tish. So I'm still claiming that as a victory."

"Remember the Fratelli twins?"

"How could I forget?" Tony smiled at the memory. Back during their MIT days, it was the first time he and Rhodey had ever gone on a double date and their dates switched places in the middle of it. After that, Tony and Rhodey swore off ever dating siblings again."

"And yet you're _still_ trying to make me and Tish happen."

"I'm fairly certain we'd noticed if she and Martha ever changed places. Besides, I think after that first kiss, Tish got any thoughts of me out of her system."

Rhodey lowered his bottle from his lips. "What?"

"Just the other day she was muttering something about never meeting your heroes."

Rhodey turned on his stool to face Tony fully. "You kissed Tish?"

"Technically, _she_ kissed me."

"And Martha let you live?"

Tony rubbed the nape of his neck. "It was pretty touch and go for a while. I mean she was still salty about London at the time and I did get her evicted on top of everything else, but Bohr seemed to help smooth things out."

"Wait. So this was _after_ you came back from Korea?" Rhodey frowned. "Why am I only just hearing about this now?"

"Do you really want me to relay each and every time I screw up? Because I doubt you'd have time for anything else. I'd pay you for your time, of course. And it'd be better than therapy. For me at least." Tony shrugged when Rhodey didn't respond. "Doesn't matter anyway. The kiss meant nothing." He took a long sip from his bottle while they sat in silence. "Full disclosure…she's a great kisser. She's no Martha, mind you, but she has soft lips. Solid technique. I suspect she might be a nibbler, but those turtlenecks you used to rock back in the day suggest you'd probably be into that."

"Stop talking," Rhodey said quickly.

Tony resumed drinking and continued watching Martha from across the room. Occasionally, she would look in his direction and smile. Tish, on the other hand, was thoroughly engrossed in Sam and Steve. After a little more needling from Tony, Rhodey eventually made his way over to throw his proverbial hat in the ring.

"Satisfied with yourself?" Martha asked Tony when she rejoined him.

He glanced at Rhodey and Tish laughing as he showed her how to make a trick shot. "Not yet," Tony said. "But I'll let you know."

The evening was a bit more bearable with Martha by his side. They stuck it out to the very end, despite his numerous attempts to get her back to the bedroom. All in all, Tony was in high spirits. So naturally the other shoe was bound to drop.

Tony had toiled endlessly on the Ultron conundrum, desperate for a way to bring his creation to life. Ultimately, he was more successful than he could have ever imagined and now he had something new to atone for.

After the battle with Ultron in the Tower and the ensuing confrontation with the other Avengers, Tony found Martha seated on the stairs outside his workroom. She had exchanged her dress for jeans and a hoodie. Bohr was lying next to her with his head in her lap. She stroked his head lazily with one hand, but the other was clinched tightly on her knee.

"Hey," Tony said softly, causing her to flinch slightly.

Martha exhaled quickly and forced a smile. "Hey." She nodded towards the workroom. "Sounds pretty intense in there."

"It happens," Tony said dismissively as he sat in on the step just below hers. "How are you?"

"Me? I'm fine." Martha laughed mirthlessly and balled her fist tighter. "Hordes of metal men? Been there, done that."

Tony sighed heavily and wished he had made the connection sooner. "I didn't think."

Martha let out a huff and uncurled her hand to reach for his. "If ever there was a sin that Tony Stark was guilty of, it would be thinking too much, not the other way around," she insisted with a ghost of a smile.

"Really?" Tony squeezed her hand. "I would have thought it'd be hubris."

"That's true as well," she conceded.

Tony dropped his head. "Did I do the wrong thing?"

"Everything happened all at once. There wasn't time to think about how I'd react to the sentries going rogue. We stopped them in the end though. That's all that matters."

Tony felt guilty that he had put her life in danger and, further still, probably triggered her PTSD. "I'm glad you're alright, but I'm still worried that I did the wrong thing," he confessed. "Ultron was supposed to be different. It was supposed to be…"

"'Armor to protect the world,'" Martha quoted. "Yea, I heard that bit."

Tony stole a glance at her. "So you think I was wrong too?"

Martha used her free hand to cover the hand that was holding hers. Bohr lifted his head at the loss of contact and sniffed their joined hands. "Life is never as simple as that, love. You did what you felt was right."

"But it still went wrong."

"That happens," she replied. "I mean John Hammond just wanted an amusement park full of dinosaurs, but I think you'll find there's a far stretching avenue that lies between theory and practice. When you created Ultron, you did it with good intentions…"

"Yea…and the road to hell is littered with good intentions."

Martha squeezed his hand. "You're not going to hell. You're going back to work. And you're not gonna rest until you fix this mess because that's the kind of man you are."

Tony met her eyes. "It's gonna be a lot of sleepless nights."

"For the both of us," she agreed.

"Good thing you've got the world's best bed warmer to keep you company," Tony said, scratching Bohr between the ears with his free hand.

"Yea and I'll sleep a lot better if his dad comes home to me in one piece."

"Or _not_ sleep," Tony suggested with the beginnings of a smile playing on his lips.

"Yea." Martha smirked. " _That_ as well."

Tony's expression turned serious again. "You need to get off the grid."

"I know." Martha nodded slowly. "I'll go to my mum's."

"Sounds like a good plan, but I'm not sure if I like the idea of you in a plane with Ultron in the wires."

"Are you forgetting who you're talking to? I know more ways of travelling than the average person," she reminded him.

"We're gonna have to maintain radio silence for a while."

Martha sighed. "I was afraid of that, but I understand."

They fell into a thoughtful silence. Neither of them said what they both were probably thinking. For a split second, Tony thought about proposing right then and there, but he could already guess Martha's reaction. It wouldn't be some kneejerk response to the danger he was about to face, but he still wanted her to have a proper proposal. He just hoped he lived long enough to give her one.

"When all of this is over, you and me are taking a vacation," Tony said, breaking the silence. "Some place you've always wanted to go."

"Like the Wizarding World of Harry Potter?" Martha asked with a grin.

Tony grimaced. "I thought you said I _wasn't_ going to hell."

"Watch it, tin man," Martha warned playfully.

"Malibu," Tony decided suddenly. "You, me and the kid." He nodded towards Bohr. "Sun and sand. Fruity drinks with umbrellas. Bathing suits optional."

Martha smiled warmly and leaned forward so that their foreheads touched. "Just name the time and place and I'll be there."


End file.
